Page 12 of Forever Endeavor

“Just hurry up and finish your drink so we can get—” He stopped to catch her by the arm as the slippery barstool slid away from her butt. “Lady, you’re one hot mess.”

“Yer the hot messss.” She playfully drilled a finger into his chest. Her other hand squeezed the denim encasing his thigh. Mmm. Thick and meaty like the rest of him.

“Now cut that out!” he snapped, removing her hand.

“You don’t wanna talk grease monkey? Fiiine,” she slurred. “Then we’ll dance instead.”

Sonny

His eyes followed as she teetered across the floor to visit the juke box. She leaned in to study the selections, hips rolling from side to side, shapely ass tilted tantalizingly upward, lips moving to songs that weren’t yet playing. A couple of roughnecks Sonny didn’t recognize as locals had also taken notice, eyeing Billie up and down as she continued to attract the wrong kind of attention. With a heavy sigh, he abandoned his bar stool and trudged over to make it clear that the girl was with him. Billie remained oblivious, helplessly stabbing at random buttons trying to get music to play.

He sidled up behind her. “Ya gotta put the coins in first, ya dingle berry.”

She reclined against his chest, cinnamon hair tickling his face, the heat from her body seeping into his. God, she smelled good. Like a summer’s day of lemonade and blue skies and clean sheets billowing on the line. Suddenly, he was dizzy, and it wasn’t the whiskey talking. “Ooh, I love so many of these,” she purred, grinding her ass into his crotch. His body immediately reacted, going from soft to hard in seconds flat like he had a goddamn Porsche in his pants.

“Geez, just hurry up and pick something,” he urged, digging into his pocket for change. Billie picked the quarters off his palm, plunked them into the slot and punched up G7. A few seconds later, the synthesized swells of “Waiting For a Girl Like You” filled the room.

She clutched Sonny’s wrist and corralled him into the middle of the empty dance floor.

“I don’t feel like dancing,” he protested, but she didn’t care, grabbing his hands and planting them on her hips. Her arms locked around his neck and she grinned up at him. Aware that people were staring, Sonny gave in, sliding his hands around the small of her back as his feet began shuffling. Gradually, his shoulders slackened. She nestled into him, tucking her head beneath his chin, her curves melting into his contours. He didn’t mind her fingers lazily playing with the hair at the nape of his neck as they swayed together, nor the rounds of her breasts squashed up against his chest. It felt awfully nice to hold someone and be held that way again. The bulge in his jeans was a dead giveaway of how good it felt. Luckily, Billie was too far gone to even notice what was up.

She nuzzled the collar of his shirt. “Mmm…you smell good, grease monkey. Like manly musk and Quaker State.”

“Just shut up and dance,” he muttered, trying to concentrate on anything but the fit and feel of her in his arms. She didn’t need to toss a lit match on the flammable reminder that slow dancing was the vertical expression of the horizontal desire.

As the final wails of the power ballad faded, she looked up and smiled. “Now that wasn’t so bad, was it? How about another? Your choice this time.”

Sonny released his grip on her waist. “Nah, one is plenty.”

“Come on, one more. Please?”

“I’m out of quarters so you’re out of luck.” He stranded her on the dance floor and returned to the bar to slam back the last of his beer. “Time to go.”

“But we only had a couple drinks,” she said with a sly smile, “and just one dance.”

“I’ve got work tomorrow and you’ve got…whatever the hell it is that you do.” He reached for his wallet and pulled out enough to cover the tab and tip while Billie drained her glass. Outside, the cool evening air came as a welcome and sobering relief. He closed his eyes, inhaling deeply.

“Weren’t we supposed to be bringing beer back with us?” she asked.

Sonny froze in his tracks. “Shit, I forgot. Wait right here and try not to fall over or walk your drunken ass off the end of the pier.”

He charged back inside and bought a twenty-four case to go. Gary sent the order through to a staff member in the back, as off-premises alcohol sales were kept separate in a locked storage room at the rear of the building. Sonny leaned on the bar and waited.

“Who’s the cute redhead?” Gary asked. “Haven’t seen you with anyone since—”

“She’s no one. Her car broke down and she’s just passing through.”

Gary shrugged. “That’s too bad. She seems kinda into you.”

“She’s also kinda sloshed. I gotta get her back.”

“Say, you coming to the open mike tomorrow night? Just a couple more spots left, so I can save one for you if you want.”

“Sure, do that,” Sonny answered.

The case was delivered to the end of the bar and Gary slid it over. “Take it easy, buddy.”

“You too. G’night.” Sonny carried out the beer under his arm. As the door swung open, he caught a glimpse of Billie backed against the wall by the two menacing goons who’d been checking her out inside. “Back off! She’s with me.”

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