Chapter Twelve: Danny

Hannah had been sending me glances all day, the kinds of glances that made a man think of things other than work, other than taking an actual breath.

Surrounded by pussy all day long, willing pussy at that, and all I could think about was the dark-haired beauty behind the bar, so near, yet so far. She might as well have been Rapunzel in that tower, dark instead of blonde, a dusky princess waiting to start her life, waiting for her savior.

That man could be me, but I couldn’t reach her unless she opened up that magical pass-through on the bar and let me inside.

I’d gotten used to her watching me surreptitiously. Today, though, those stares were more overt, as though something brewed in that mysterious mind of hers and I had taken a prime spot in her thoughts. I didn’t mind it, but it did spark fantasies and make my cock think something might actually happen. We were both going to be so disappointed if those fantasies turned out to be a bust.

Charity noticed the extra glances. At one point in the afternoon she made a point of snagging my attention and drawing me to one of the tables as she bussed it.

“You need to stop what you’re doing,” Charity said, glancing toward the bar. “Whatever it is.”

I shook my head. “There’s nothing going on.”

“Sure,” Charity said, dropping several bottles into the tub. “You keep saying that, Danny, and maybe someone will believe it. Me, I see the looks, and I’m just saying if you want to stay healthy, you’ll leave it alone.”

“You mean Hannah,” I said.

“Yes, I mean Hannah,” she whispered furiously. “Richie decides who Hannah sees. He steers men in her direction, and she chooses.”

“Does Hannah know that?”

“I don’t know what Hannah knows. I just know Richie decides what he wants for his little sister, and he doesn’t want you.”

“Hannah can make her own choices,” I pointed out.

She narrowed her eyes. “That’s where you’re wrong, Danny, and if you keep this up, you’re going to find out just how wrong you are.” She put her hand on mine. “Come on, Danny, be smart. We don’t want to lose you around here.”

“You’re not going to lose me.”

“If you don’t stop looking at her like that, we will.” She grabbed her tub and vanished toward the kitchen.

Richie had already warned me away from Hannah, but for some reason, now that Charity had made my survival her mission, that warning took on another proportion. I could have written off her concern to jealousy since I’d chosen Hannah over her, but I thought it was more than. She seemed to like Hannah, and she seemed to like me, and Charity was an okay girl.

Carmen was okay too. He had come in and out of the bar a few times, showing Hannah paperwork, gathering keys. Carmen was a good guy, and obviously Hannah liked him. She spoke to him with kindness, and when she offered him a soft drink, he gratefully sank onto a stool and drank it slowly. Something about the guy seemed down today, though I guess when you’re a handyman trapped working for a guy like Richie, it gave you plenty to be down about. Still, seeing a sober man slumped over the bar with his head hanging like a doomed man’s cast a pall over the place, despite the cranked-up music and catcalls.

Six o’clock rolled around, and Steve sauntered into the place to the dangerous rhythm of “Bad to the Bone,” the chain on his wallet swinging and his Mohawk swaying with each step. That song suited him to a T, and I almost laughed, but something about the comparison made me a bit queasy.

Time for a mental switch. Easy, casual went out the window as I pulled my head away from its fantasies of an Italian princess spread on luxurious sheets, waiting for me to make her wildest dreams come true. I pulled out the tough bouncer, ready to ward off problems.

Hannah spoke to Steve for a few minutes, which was their usual routine. Hannah usually made sure most of the regulars’ tabs were paid when she left, but inevitably there were a few holdovers, most often out-of-towners who’d just arrived and planned to stay for the nighttime vibe. So there was always a bit unfinished business to be discussed between shifts. She grabbed her purse and keys and stood there for a few minutes with her head down, her tits rising and falling as she seemingly trying to gather courage for something. Curious, I couldn’t take my eyes off her. She looked ambivalent, a look I’d never seen on Hannah before.

Finally, she raised her face, and her gaze locked right on me. She gestured, a small flick of her hand indicating she wanted me to come to her. Confused, but somehow excited, I snapped one quick look to the stage perimeter to be sure things were cool and then moved toward the bar.

I met her at the pass-through.

She licked her luscious lips as I waited for whatever she needed to say. Maybe one of the girls needed extra attention tonight. That happened sometimes when Hannah got a strange vibe or one of the girls had gotten bizarre messages on Facebook.

She shocked me when she said, “We have an hour. Follow me.”

Holy fuck.

She pushed through the door into the dark hallway, where only one dim overhead lamp spread a small pool of light. I followed. I still had no way of knowing what this meant, but my cock seemed to understand perfectly. It pressed against my zipper with a force I hadn’t felt in months, hard, pulsing.

When we arrived at the stairs, she reached behind and took my hand. The warm slide of her fingers into mine sent an unexpected burst of heat through my body. I hadn’t held a woman’s hand in years, and that small gesture brought memories flashing through my head. Movies. Picnics. Carnivals. Dances. Making out in cars and basements. Football games. Cheerleaders. My first crush. My first blowjob. My first fuck. My first love. All of it met and merged like lightning strikes between our hands.

Emotions, some I’d thought long gone, erupted. Happiness. Friendship. Hope.

It was innocent. Trusting. Sublime.

I squeezed her hand and followed her like a lamb to the slaughter. Richie and Butch could have been waiting behind that closed door at the top of the stairs to tear my head from my shoulders and I would have still followed just to hold that dainty hand.

She keyed three separate locks, and then we were inside.

No Richie. No Butch. Just a girl whose perfume smelled like a flower garden in spring.

She stared up at me like the world’s most precious gift.

And I was thinking weird thoughts like the world’s biggest sap, but I couldn’t help it. She did something to me.

She closed the door, leaned back, and then grabbed fistfuls of my shirt.

It was the only invitation I needed.

I grabbed her arms, yanked her against me, and slammed my mouth over hers. She lifted onto her toes to press harder. My tongue swept inside her mouth, finding warmth and an unbelievable sweetness. My hands found her ass and lifted, and she wrapped her legs around my waist instinctively. Pressing her tight against the door, I reveled in the sensations of her soft willing flesh smashed against the hardness of my own. My mouth roamed from her lips to her ear and down the column of her throat. Her head fell back, granting me more access, and I nipped and sucked at every exposed inch, cupping her face and holding her still as I pressed kisses against her pulse and her chin.

I needed, though, to feel skin. I pressed her harder in place then yanked her red blouse over her head, revealing a lacy cotton bra that, in any other moment, I might have taken the time to admire. I couldn’t stop. I slipped my hands behind her, undid the clasp, and let the bra drop to the floor, staring as sweet plump tits spilled out. Lifting her higher, I clamped my mouth over one tight nipple and suckled. Her moans made my cock harden further, and precum dampened my pants.

My tongue toyed with the taut nipple, swirling around it and then sucking and drawing it out between my lips. She raked her fingers through my hair, clutching my head and drawing me closer, her legs tightening around my waist as she rubbed her pussy against me, creating friction. The smell of her arousal spiked through the air, musky, sweet, compelling. Her skin was pure fire, and the taste of her tits, her mouth, her flesh made me hard as a fucking hammer. I could have pounded nails, but my cock had other ideas. We were going to pound her.