Pole Dance (20 page)

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Authors: J. A. Hornbuckle

Tags: #Dance

BOOK: Pole Dance
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"Darlin'," Jake rumbled into the phone. "You up for take-out and a movie at my place tonight?" Since he had already checked her schedule, he knew she was available as the job du jour was at the Nursing Home and her shift was scheduled to start in fifteen minutes.

"Sure," Caitlin replied with a soft smile in her voice as she breathed in time to her quick step. Jake could hear the quick-click of her heels on the concrete as she bustled down the street. "Will I have to Google the directions? I've gotta admit I'm not good unless I know where I'm going."

"I'll swing by your place around 7:30 to get you, if that's okay." Jake knew her shift at the Nursing Home ended at six. "Gives us time to choose what we want to eat and for you to decide the movie we can get from that box outside the grocery store." Jake paused, liking just the sound of her breathy voice as she walked briskly to get to her job on time.

"Oh, and Cait?"

"Uh-huh?"

"Pack a bag, gorgeous, 'cause you're spending the night, yeah?" Jake could hear the hitch in her throat and the slowing of her walk as the full impact of his meaning made its way to the front of her mind.

"Uhm, o-oh-okay," she stammered and he could hear her feet fall out of rhythm. He smiled knowing that the thought of him was affecting her as much as the memory of her had gotten to him earlier.

"Later, Darlin'," he said, hearing the whoosh of the door she pulled open echoed down through his phone.

"Later, Jake," Caitlin said softly before disconnecting.

*.*.*.*.*

My six hour stint at the Nursing Home flew aided, I knew, by my giddiness at seeing Jake later that night. While we had only been apart just a few hours, my body was craving to see and touch him again. When my shift ended, I was practically skipping down the sidewalk back to my apartment to get ready. I changed Floyd's water, added food and even cleaned the litter box knowing I was feeling a bit guilty about leaving my cat alone even if it was just overnight. Floyd seemed to know something was up because he kept threading himself in and around my ankles as I tried to move quickly in order to take care of his needs before I started to take care of my own.

I grabbed a quick shower and changed into my well-worn jeans that showed my ass to its best advantage. I added a thin-knit, drape-necked sweater in a soft amethyst over a matching satin camisole ($2.75 at Goodwill, Sa-weet!) before stomping my feet into knee-length boots of soft, gray suede that I tucked beneath the boot bell of my jeans. I tossed clean underwear, my toothbrush and my best nightgown into my weather-beaten tote. I added my deodorant and citrus body-spray while I tried to think of something I could bring. Mom always said you never showed up for a party without a gift in hand. And I was planning to party with Jake. Something along the naked-kind of party.

Remembering that he had ordered coffee the two times I'd been around him, I glanced at the clock and saw I had enough time to run to Buxby's for a small bag of one of their special blends before he was due to pick me up. Grabbing my keys, coat and purse I quickly made my way to my car, hell-bent on getting there and back before he was scheduled to pick me up.

I was bent over studying the shelves of the different beans when I heard a sultry, though loud, voice.

"Well, well, well. If it isn't Jake's latest plaything!"

As I turned and straightened, I saw the voice belonged to none other than the beautiful Fiona who had struck a pose with one hand on her canted hip as she waved the other in my direction. Dressed in thin, black leggings and a skintight, green low necked tunic and sky-high heels, I saw that she was with two other women who were, like her, eyeing me with distaste.

"Fiona," I acknowledged softly, though it must be said, carefully. I had seen how hurtful she liked to play and I was very unskilled in the feminine art of verbal warfare. I glanced at her friends but recognized by their cold eyes that they were just as unfriendly as Fiona, so I knew I couldn't count on any of them to be in my corner in this spontaneous showdown.

"This is the jail-bait I told you about," Fiona intoned in a loud whisper as she crossed her arms over her large chest as her eyes ripped over me. "Thinks she's all that just because she has Jake's attention this week."

My body started shaking at her snide tone. Why did this woman hate me so much?

"Has he started buying you things, yet, teeny-bopper? We all know about Jake and his charity cases, don't we girls?" Fiona's voice was getting louder as she enlisted her friends. "He's well known for buying his way between our legs and I bet you're no different than the rest!"

I could feel my blush start creeping up as I remembered my coat and the repair of my car.

"Shit, you're no better than them street walkers on 5th, girlie. Givin' good pussy away for money," the woman in the towering black hair and vibrant red short-shorts muttered with a sniff. Seriously? Short, shorts in winter?

"That's all you're doin', you slick piece of tail. Tradin' your cunt for stuff. And don't even try to tell me you don't know it!" Fiona yelled as she tossed her flame colored hair in emphasis. "You are a fuckin' whore who thinks she hit the big time by bangin' Jake. Well, honey…" she leaned in close as her voice finally, thankfully, got softer.

"…you're just another in a long, long line of Jake's parade of pussy." She eyed me up and down again. "Just another skanky ho' that'll be tossed aside as soon as he gets a whiff of something sweeter after he's tired of your over-used hole."

"That Jake'll fuck anything that moves," the bleach-blonde in a bottle green, too-tight-for-the-flesh-it-contained, tank dress agreed.

I was trying to play it cool, not say anything to add fuel to the fire. I knew, I
knew
that Fiona was talking through her ass and that she had a real attitude especially when it came to Jake and that I should take her crude words with a grain of salt. But how could she know that he had bought me things? They seemed to be waiting on me, on my reaction to what they had said. I searched my mind for a witty come-back or snide remark to put them all in their place before I could leave their presence, but I had nothing. I had no experience with this and I didn't want to, or even know how to, sink to their level in order to respond.

"Thanks for the warning, ladies" is all I could reply before reaching back down to grab a small bag of the hazelnut ground roast and side-stepped my way around them to the cash register. Luckily, there was no one in front of me and I was able to pay for my purchase and leave Buxby's as soon as possible. I caught the eyes of the guy behind the counter as he handed me my change but I could only hold them for a second before I scooted towards the door to leave as fast as I could. True, I was shaking like a leaf but I was hoping Fiona and her little horde of ho's wouldn't be able to see and would let me go without any further altercation.

Jake was waiting on the porch when I got back to my place. As I locked my car and strolled up the steps to meet him, I forced myself to put the scene at Buxby's behind me.

"Hey, Darlin'," Jake rumbled as he snagged my neck and pulled me against him for a quick kiss. "Working late?"

"Nope, just had to run an errand," I replied settling myself against his chest. "Let me get my bag and we can go." I unlocked the main door and the door to my apartment. I shoved the small Buxby's bag into my tote and handed the overfull bag to him with a shaky smile.

"You okay, Cait?" he asked eyeing me carefully.

"Uh huh. Sure," I lied roaming my eyes around my apartment in an effort not to look at him. My body was still thrumming at the coarse words that had been flung at me and my mind couldn't get them, much less the hurt behind them, out of my head.

We made our way to Jake's place, which was surprisingly in a middle class neighborhood lined with stately oaks. As he pulled into the drive, I could see that we were to the side of what appeared to be an arts and crafts house that had been divided into a duplex. My eyes were riveted by its stately grace, painted gray with dark, brick-red trim that was only broken by the two enamel-black, front doors marked on either side by the house numbers. As we climbed the few steps to his front porch, I was surprised to see them flanked by small planters filled with winter greenery. The seating areas on both sides of the front doors looked warm and inviting, too, with sturdy redwood chairs covered in striped, colorful cushions that matched the exterior colors and even more urns filled with cold weather plants.

"This is beautiful," I murmured as Jake unlocked and opened the massive door.

"Frank and I bought it years ago and I just finished the renovations last year," Jake rumbled as he followed me into the house. I heard the jangle of metal before I saw the blonde lab come barreling, though skidding the whole way down the long, dark hardwood floor from the back of the house.

"Mustard!" Jake exclaimed in a low voice as he leaned down and captured the dog's head in his hands and began to rub and scratch. "Come meet my girl, boy." He turned the dog's face towards me. "Caitlin, Mustard, Mustard, Cait."

I reached out my hand to pet the large dog but he was having none of it. As soon as Jake's hands released his face, Mustard barreled towards me, though I was probably only two feet away, and sunk his nose directly and firmly into my crotch sniffing and huffing deeply. I crossed my legs as my arms tried unsuccessfully to push the heavy beast away.

"Jake?"

"Aw, Darlin', he just knows a good thing when he smells it," Jake said with a cheeky grin as he grabbed Mustard's collar and pulled him away. "Let me just put him out back so he can calm himself, yeah?"

I watched as Jake maneuvered his, in my mind, great beast outside before turning my eyes to the interior of the house.

The whole front of the house was comprised the living room filled with brown leather slouchy couches and armchairs. The theme seemed to be an eclectic mix of mission style furniture with low lying tables and stained glass topped lamps done in the Frank Lloyd Wright mixture of warm gold and brown stripes. Set back behind the seating area were the stairs leading to the upper level. To the right of the stairs I could see a well-appointed kitchen full of modern appliances and brown based marble counter tops. To my immediate right was a huge oak dining room table with ten chairs tucked into its oval. From what I could see from my vantage point to the left of the front door, each of the rooms had many windows that were topped in stained glass that echoed the warm stripes of the lamps

I had never seen anything so beautiful, so coordinated nor so totally masculine in my life as Jake's home. Not that I knew all that much about architecture, but I was my father's daughter, and I knew the craftsmanship that had fashioned it. This was one of a kind.

I watched as Jake came back in and immediately went to the iPod station in the corner of the living room closest to the front door and selected Dave Matthews Band, 'Busted Stuff'. Perfect music to set up our evening. We were still so 'new' to each other that it was the best sound to play in the background. And as always when I hear DMB early years, offered a prayer for LeRoi.

"Your choice on the food tonight, Darlin'," Jake rumbled as he softly made his way back to me and wrapped me in his embrace. "What's your pleasure?"

"Uhm," I thought quickly leaning my forehead against his chin as I pressed into his hard chest. "Chinese? Kung Pao Chicken or Mu Shu Pork?"

You're kidding, right? Dave Matthews
and
Chinese food. If we were gonna do what I'd been hoping for all freaking day, then Jake was well on his way to seeing me in his bed.

Jake grabbed my hand and led me to one of the bar stools at the high countertop that fronted his kitchen as he pressed a button on his cell. Chinese food delivery pre-programmed into his speed dial?

"Tan? Stanton. Can I have a large Hot and Sour Soup, two orders of Crab Puffs, one Beef with Broccoli, a Kung Pao Chicken and two orders of Mu Shu Pork delivered at the house? Yeah. Look forward to it." Jake disconnected the call and gazed at me across the bar while reaching into his pocket and peeling off a couple of bills that he left on the counter.

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