Chapter 18- Austin

This whiskey tastes like I’ll be drunk texting you later

~ Walker Thomas

I wrapped a possessive arm around Bee’s waist, settling my palm on the curve of her hip, right where the gentle arch of her ass began. This was the first time I’d ever held her close like this, and the fact she snuggled into my body like a contented kitten pulled my downturned lips into a smug smile. Even though I had a need to touch her, it wasn’t the motivation for holding her now. No, it had more to do with the men who were openly leering at my woman! My woman? Hell to the fuck yes, my damned woman!

I was sure the figure she struck as we walked down the long line of people waiting to gain entrance to the club would be the go-to masturbation image for every man who laid eyes on her. Bee in everyday wear was stunning. Bee in evening wear was utter magnificence.

She looked breathtaking in a charcoal grey dress that plunged immodestly to her naval in the front, and dipped low down her back, clinging to the tops of her thighs. All that exposed flesh had me gripping her hip a little firmer to prevent from running my fingers up the warm smooth skin of her back. As we walked, Bee’s fingers brushed delicately over the filigree, sexy as hell choker around her neck. The black heels made her long legs look fucking incredible and there was no stopping the filthy image of those legs wrapped around my waist.

Wearing a black dress shirt, rolled halfway up my forearms, and dark gray charcoal pants, I felt a sense of righteousness standing with Bee. I knew we made a striking couple, and I was beyond proud to have this woman under my arm. Yeah, fuckers, I thought, as I eyed another douche that was unashamedly eye fucking Bee, this goddess was mine.

In front of us, Walker strolled with confidence in black dress pants and a white button down shirt, his short hair no doubt finger brushed but stylish enough he could get away with it. His arm was draped just as possessively over Mac’s shoulders which made me feel a little better. At least I wasn’t descending into cavemanhood alone.  Even though I could barely drag my gaze away from Bee, there was no denying Mac looked fucking incredible in a fire engine red baby doll style dress made out of a light fabric that moved easily in the breeze but somehow managed to keep her ass barely covered. Her red heels and long, black hair draped over one shoulder in waves and curls finished the look. Even with the impressive outfit, it was the hat that seemed to be gaining all the attention. Black with “let’s get fucking weird” in red, glittered print, it was completely at odds with the seductively feminine picture she painted.

The line to get into the club was ridiculously long, and I wasn’t sure how the girls were going to accomplish cutting in. Yet they walked with casual confidence, passing jokes back and forth like we weren’t about to enter one of the most exclusive clubs in the city.

At the roped off entrance, Mac dropped Walker’s hand and threw herself into the arms of the giant bouncer on the door. At six foot six, a little over three hundred pounds of burly muscle, and a neck as wide as my head, the man struck an imposing figure. He hugged Mac like a brother might a sister, shaking her gently from side to side, before gently placing her back on her heeled feet. There was no missing the tension in Walker’s body as he watched his girl fawn all over the brute. The bouncer whispered something in Mac’s ear before flicking the brim of her hat in that annoying way a sibling might do. Mac shooed him away and quickly turned around to drag Walker to her side. Walker was no slouch in the muscles and height department, but this man dwarfed him.

“Baby, I’d like you to meet my cousin, Leonardo. Leo, this is my man, Walker.”

Walker nodded and held out his hand, which Leo shook, and with a visible wince, he withdrew from the handshake and threw his arm back around Mac’s shoulder in a possessive gesture that Mac seemed to preen under. I wondered if any bones in my friend’s hand had been crushed under what looked like a too firm grip courtesy of Leo.

“Sup’, Cupid?” Leo mumbled in a low, thunderous voice.

“Sup’, BFG,” Bee replied, bumping her fist with his. She then turned to take my hand and tugged me alongside her.

The giant of a man was definitely sizing me up; his dark, penetrating gaze under a slightly protruding brow watched me carefully as I reached out a hand and shook with a firm grip.

“Black Veil Brides,” I noted the band shirt Leo was wearing. “I saw them live in their Church of the Wild Ones tour in 2012, cool band.”

Leo didn’t squeeze the life out of my hand, thank fuck for that, and simply nodded before unlatching the rope from its golden pole and stepping aside.

“Have a great night,” Leo grumbled. “And Cupid?” he added as we walked through. Bee glanced back over her shoulder. “You girls stay off the tables tonight, or you’ll be banned for another decade.”

A decade? I had no idea how old Bee was, but she didn’t look a day over twenty-five, which would have put her at fifteen a decade ago. Well underage for club visits. I gifted Bee a curious look, and she shrugged sheepishly.

“He’s exaggerating, and it was Mac who was doing all the dancing. I was just trying to keep her under control.”

Somehow, I didn’t believe that. I had no doubt Mac would be trouble with a capital T, but I also had no doubt Bee would be right there beside her.

We walked down a long, dark corridor then up a wide staircase to the second floor, and what was essentially the belly of the club. I came to an abrupt stop as I took in my surroundings. This was my first visit to Purgatory, and it was one of the most impressive sights I’d ever seen. While Bee and Mac stopped to talk to someone, I strolled over to a railing and glanced down upon the lower floor of the club.

According to Google, the first floor was dedicated to Hell, and damn, if it didn’t give off a hellish vibe. The house lights were dimmed and red lights gave the entire floor a wicked red glow. The building was built kind of like a donut, with the center being hollow and cavernous, giving an unobstructed view to the floors below and above. Around the edges of the lower floor, chains hung from high ceilings and women dressed in nothing more than scraps of fabric hung from them, swinging and swaying in time with the music.

“Leather and chains,” I chuckled as Walker walked up alongside me. “You sure we aren’t at BDSM fetish convention?”

Walker grinned. “It’s got a dark Village People vibe, right?”

The floor we were on had an industrial ambience with polished concrete floors, a long, concrete bar to one side, and stainless steel furniture. The pounding music from the lower bar echoed, but it somehow seemed as though it were coming from miles away, rather than the several feet that separated the two levels. 

“I feel overdressed,” Walker murmured as we watched the bar staff on the lower floor flip cocktail shakers in the air. The men wore leather pants and no shirts, with studded chokers around their necks.

“I swear, if they bring out a whip, I’m out of here,” I added. Rough sex was one thing; whips and chains were a whole other world.

A small hand wrapped around mine and I turned to find that rare, radiant smile Bee blasted me with every now and again.

“Whips and ball gags are saved for VIP night,” she said with a smirk, and I thought she might not have been joking. “Come on, we’re headed up top.”

I followed Bee, Walker, and Mac as we snaked our way through the crowds of people. I caught a glimpse of someone stepping out of a small room with a curtain separating it from the rest of the club. I tugged on Bee’s hand, bringing her to a stop.

“What’s that?” I asked.

Bee’s sly grin was sexy as hell. “Somewhere to confess and purge your sins, of course.”

They had a freaking confessional? In a club?

Bee chuckled softly before guiding me up a wide set of stairs. Reaching the top, I paused at the sight.  This room took my breath away. It was the polar opposite of the ground floor. This floor was dedicated to heaven. The room had a golden glow to it from the muted yellow lights, the floor made of high polished white tiles, and the furniture in shades of white, gold, and cream. A few people lounged in sitting areas around the outer edges of the room, while tall tables and stools sat close to the long, golden bar. A dance floor was set up to one side, with ropes of golden beads hanging low enough that dancers could reach up and run their hands through them. The walls were covered with billowing golden fabric that gave the circular room a feeling of continual movement. The dance music had a smooth quality about it, and although loud, you could still talk over it without having to yell. The bar staff on this level all wore white, giving them an angelic semblance. I had the urge to quote The Wizard Of Oz. We sure as shit were not in Kansas anymore.

All the tables were full but miraculously the four women sitting at one table closest to the dance floor abandoned their position as we approached. Bee and Mac slid effortlessly onto the now free bar stools, and just as I was about to lean over and ask Bee what she would like to drink, an angelic, winged woman approached our table with a glittery, gold serving tray in one hand.

Bee gifted me with a flirty wink before leaning into the waitress and whispering something in her ear. She nodded with a smile and disappeared in the direction of the bar. Bee then grabbed Mac’s hand and dragged her off her stool.  Leaning into my side, she pressed the gentle curves of her body against the harder planes of mine. My cock immediately reacted like the pervert it was, trying to climb high into the fabric of my pants.

“We’re just going to hit the bathroom. Drinks will be here soon.”

The whisper of her breath over my ear created goose pimples all over my skin, and when I would have pressed my lips to the soft skin beneath her ear, Bee drew away. Her lingering fingers traced the outline of one of my tattoos down my forearm to where the colorful ink disappeared at my wrist, and she continued to trace an invisible line down my finger, before slipping away. I watched her get swept away in the crowd, her hips swaying in a most hypnotizing manner.

“Damn, dude, we hit the motherload. Please tell me she’s your mythical ‘one.’ If she’s not, I’m going to beat some sense into you.” Walker groaned.

“She’s the one,” I said, just as Bee disappeared out of view. “Just need to make sure we’re on the same page.”

“She’s coming around. You can see it in her eyes; they’ve gone from all hostile lust to dreamy lust.”

“What about Mac?” I asked, changing the subject. I’d noticed the change in Bee, too, but I was worried those walls that were slowly crumbling could just as easily be resurrected. 

“Brother, I’ve fallen so hard I almost broke my dick on the way down.”

I laughed at the dreamy look on Walker’s face.

“I do believe ‘I told you so.’”

Our drinks were delivered and I raised my whiskey to Walker’s.

 “And I’ll take that like the grown ass man I am.”

Grown man my ass. Walker was forever a child trapped in an adult’s body.

“What’s with the trucker caps?” I asked. “Does she wear them in bed, too?”

Walker grinned. “She did the first time, but it kept getting knocked off when I’d pull her hair, and trust me, that girl likes a bit of rough love. The other night I spanked that perfect round ass so hard-“

I held out my hands. “TMI, dude. I really didn’t need the mental picture of that shit.”

We fell into a comfortable silence as our eyes wandered over the club.

“These girls are different,” Walker finally said.

“Of course they are,” I admitted with a nod.  “Otherwise we wouldn’t have been bagged and tagged so easily.”

Bee and Mac had a confidence unlike any other women I had ever met, and I’d met some bold women in my time. The girls weren’t arrogant, though, nor did they appear self-centered or cruel. They were just comfortable in their own skin and maybe a little wild. I found that recklessness sexy as hell.

“No, I mean, they’re different,” Walker said again as if trying to make a point. “They’ve got secrets, and once you know them, you’ll understand why they had to keep them. Just keep an open mind.”

This time when I looked at my friend, I realized how serious he was being, his usual joking and casual flippancy gone. Recalling my conversation with Mavis about transvestites, I nervously turned and gave Walker my full attention. 

“Please tell me they don’t have dangly bits where their girly bits should be.”

Walker laughed loudly. “I’m not talking about that kind of different, brother. You’ll understand soon enough.” 

Frustration bit at me and I ran a hand through my hair. I didn’t like secrets and I hated lies. It was a deal breaker for me.

“Dude, really, chill out. I promise you it will be okay. Their kind of different is going to blow your fucking mind.”

He raised his drink, and I clinked mine against his. Different. I was okay with different but I’d prefer to know what I’m walking into rather than continue forward blindly. Walker wasn’t bothered by it, though, so it couldn’t have been anything too crazy. We’d always had each other’s backs, and I knew no woman would ever come between that kind of friendship. I mean, I’d caught him jacking off to Brittany Spears music video “Baby One More Time,” and I didn’t tell a fucking soul; if that right there doesn’t speak of an unbreakable bond, nothing will.