Three
What the hell is wrong with me? I fumed, I know better than to let him get to me. And now Opry had gotten an eyeful. Shit, fuck, piss, damn. I recited the litany silently as I walked down the hallway.
I refused to be one more in a long line of women warming his bed. The damn man was hot, and he knew it. He had all the girls at the club drooling over him. Tish said he hadn’t been sleeping with any of them in a while, because she heard a couple of them talking the last time she was at the club, just before her wedding. They were bitching about just that: that he hadn’t been fucking any of them. It made me smile to know that he probably did have blue balls.
My lips tingled, still feeling his kiss there. I looked up when the door behind me opened and Opry stuck his head out. “Umm, Jiji, you look like you’re in a daze, babe, you ok?” I flipped him the bird but kept on walking. I could hear his laughter following me.
Sandra was in the break room getting coffee for the two of them. She turned to me. “Your lips are swollen, your hair’s a mess, and you have that just-been-fucked look, Jiji. I thought we were here about a cat.” Leave it to Sandra to address the elephant in the room the second she opened her mouth.
Exasperated, I said, “Nobody fucked anybody, Sandra.”
She smirked. “Too bad, that boy’s jeans don’t leave much to the imagination!”
Rolling my eyes at her, I said, “Yeah, and every damn club girl has had a taste. Thanks, but no thanks.”
“Come on, let’s go see about the cat; we’ll table this discussion for later, but we will talk about it,” Sandra said.
Sighing, I followed her out. “Tink is in exam room one. The X-rays are on the lightbox.”
“Tink?” Sandra asked.
Smiling, I said, “Sure, why not. She had to have a fairy on her shoulders to get away from the bastard that attacked her. What’s even more amazing is she’s declawed, Sandra; she has to be someone’s baby. I checked, but she’s not microchipped. She’s a ninja cat—took on a coyote twice her size with limited defenses and won!”
Sandra chuckled. “Tink it is. Let’s go see the lady.” Turning, she walked down the hallway, entering exam room one.
“Hey, Breech,” she said. “We’re going to do some work on Tink here, so why don’t you go to the break room with Opry.”
Breech sipped from his cup then ambled to the door, winking at me on the way out. Sandra giggled out, “Yep, he’s falling hard. Opry told me he’s been dogging you, but I didn’t think it went both ways,” she said.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Sandra. We kissed a couple of times. Granted, it was fuckin’ hot as hell, but, I’m not going to fall into his bed to be his pussy du jour.”
Sandra gave a shriek of laughter. “Pussy du jour, oh my fucking God, that’s hysterical. I’m going to put that on a mug for your morning coffee!”
I couldn’t help smiling back at her. I teased, “Bitch!”
“One-hundred percent bitch and proud of it,” she retorted.
Tink took that moment to yowl from the table, moving her front paws like she was praying. “Sandra, she’s moving! I thought she might have a spinal cord injury because she hadn’t moved since I brought her in. It must have been shock.”
“Let’s do an exam, get her comfortable, and then finish our coffee with the guys while the meds take effect.” We worked side by side in comfortable silence, getting Tink cleaned up, cataloging her injuries. Sandra inserted a catheter so we could give her fluids then gave her a shot for the pain. I hooked up the bottles, settling her into a cage with oxygen for the night before cleaning off the metal examination table, setting the instruments aside to be sterilized. Sandra finished her notes on the charts then turned to me, pulling me down onto a stool next to the table.
“Ok, Jiji, spill it. What’s going on with you and Breech? There’s more there than just a few kisses. The man looks like he could devour you for lunch.”
Sighing loudly, I dropped my chin to my chest. “He frustrates me, Sandra.” Looking up, I said, “Sometimes we would have a quiet night watching a movie together. I would make some microwave popcorn and he’d let me pick a sappy chick flick, then I’d have to watch some combat macho thing. Other times he’d go out to the club. I’d pretend to myself that I wasn’t waiting up for him, but I couldn’t sleep until I heard the rumble from his bike signaling he was home.”
“It’s telling that you think of the two of you and the word home in the same sentence, Jiji.”
I flushed a little. “It’s just a figure of speech, Sandra.”
“Uh-huh,” she retorted. “That’s why you’ve said it several times.”
Tucking my legs under me on the stool, I asked, “Do you want to hear the rest or not?”
“Don’t get testy with me, girlfriend. I’m just trying to give you the benefit of my vast experience with Alpha men.”
“Pfft, yeah, yeah, you’re freaking amazing, got it,” I said.
She shot me the finger. “Shut up and finish the story,” she said. “I’m all ears!”
“Ok, so a couple nights ago, at around 2 am, I was getting some water from the fridge when he walked into the kitchen. He smelled of beer, cigarettes and some skank’s perfume. He tried to engage me, but I ignored him, slamming the fridge door, trying to swagger past him.
“He blocked my exit, his brow pulled down. ‘What the hell’s the matter with you?’
“Poking him in the chest, I told him, ‘Go back to your sleazy club girl.’ He looked confused, so I enlightened him. ‘You stink of some girl’s cheap eau de awful cologne. Go back to rolling around in the sheets with her.’”
Sandra was giggling. “Fucking hell, Jiji, you didn’t.”
Smiling, I said, “I sure as shit did.”
Sandra leaned forward, hanging on every word. “So, what happened, what did he say? Jeez, don’t stop now, Jiji.”
I leaned forward too, ‘til we were almost touching. “Well,” I said, “he got this big cheesy grin on his face, and said, ‘Jealous much, Jiji?’
“So, I said, ‘Hah, jealous of some trampy little twat-waffle throwing herself at you? I don’t think so, Breech. It would be a cold day in hell before I’d be green-eyed over you.’ And he growled at me.”
“Holy fucking hell, you got big balls, girlfriend. Then what, tell me?” Sandra begged.
Giggling, I said, “Let me paint you a picture, babe. Mr. Muscles backed me into the counter, caging me so I couldn’t move—I’m talking using his lower body to pin me. Shit, Sandra, the guy is loaded for bear down there. He’s packing a thick stick, and I’m betting it’s full-on dynamite.”
Sandra looked ready to bust a gut, she was laughing so hard.
“I mean, how’s a girl supposed to keep her wits about her when confronted with such a huge package, especially when you can’t see it, just feel it.”
“The wanker knew it too, didn’t he, Jiji? He figured he’d give you a taste of what you’re missing, or what he’s sticking in some other slut.”
Now it was my turn to laugh. “Damn right, Sandra, guys use their dicks to distract us just as much as we use our boobs to distract them.”
“So, finish what happened?” she asked.
“Once I regained some sense—because, you know, it was sitting right there between my legs—I kinda rubbed up on it a little. I really wanted to cop a feel, but then he would know he succeeded in distracting me, and I wouldn’t give him the satisfaction.
“So, I said, ‘Listen Breech, I’m not your beck and call girl. I have to be up early to help Sandra, so I suggest you enlist the services of Rosy Palm and the five sisters to take care of that Loch Ness Monster you got swimming around down there.’ He was so stunned he backed up, and I ducked past him and sashayed my little fanny to bed.”
Sandra started clapping her hands. “Bravo!” she shouted. “I fucking love it.” Tears flowed down her cheeks and she was holding her side. “Oh my God, I can’t stop,” she broke up again. Finally, she got some control, wiping the tears, and I handed her a tissue so she could blow her nose. She wagged her finger at me then executed a perfect bow. “I bow before the master,” she said.
I curtsied using my scrubs as an imaginary gown. “Why thank you, kind lady,” I replied, and we both cracked up again.
Finally, she said, “You’re going to give him a run for his money. This is going to be fun to watch,” she snickered. “Come on, let’s go; I wanna sneak a peek at his goods. Plus, I need some coffee. You’re killing me.”
I giggled. “I’ll distract him so you can have a good look-see.”
“Sweet! I have a wingman, or is that wing-girl? Ah, who gives a fuck, let’s roll,” she said.