Page 4 of Suck This

CHAPTER 2

What doesn’t kill you gives you bad coping mechanisms and a mean streak.

-Fact of Life

CONSTANTINE

There’s something about her that smells… familiar.

My thoughts had me zeroing in on the woman across the room.

The one dressed in light-washed jeans that were practically painted on, a black t-shirt that said ‘Virginity Rocks’ across the breast, and motorcycle boots.

I presumed it was an old t-shirt with the way it was faded to hell and back.

She looked like she was a man’s wet dream with her long, wavy black hair that came to a stop right above her black sparkly belt.

And I could see just a hint of her black panties, though I couldn’t tell if they were a thong or regular bikini underwear.

No matter what they were, they were teasing the absolute hell out of me.

I watched her walk into the bar and take a seat at the end closest to me.

Watched her wait around nervously for her friend to arrive and watched some more when relief crossed her face at her female friend arriving.

I continued to watch her drink her wine. Watched her friend drag her onto the dance floor.

And then watched and waited for Dimitri to corral them in my direction.

Though, Dimitri didn’t know he was doing that at the time.

He likely just thought he was about to get laid when that couldn’t be further from the truth.

The moment she was backed up to my table, I scooted the table forward so she’d have nowhere else to go but down, and waited while she did it almost perfectly—though she didn’t mean to.

Her ass hit my lap, and I automatically curled my drink up high in the air so she didn’t spill it.

She turned to apologize, I was sure, but froze when she realized whose lap she had fallen into.

“I’m so sorry,” she apologized, getting up.

Or she would have, had I not held on to her hip with one large hand to keep her in place.

“Dimitri,” I drawled, turning to the now very scared man. “Why does this young lady smell of fear?”

Dimitri’s mouth tightened, causing his fangs to be revealed.

“I was…”

“Whatever your excuse, it’s not good enough,” I told him blandly. “Please, give your membership card to Pavlov at the door. You’re no longer a member here.”

Dimitri looked crushed, but he wasn’t stupid enough to argue with me.

“Yes, sir,” he squeaked, then started retreating.

Nobody ever argued. Sometimes there was no fun in anything anymore.

Silence loomed heavy and thick, and I heard the irregular heart rate of the woman in my lap.

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