Amorous Goods: Scar Tissue

"Amorous Goods, Season 04" Author Challenge and Halloween Story Contest 2023 entry.

I missed adding an entry to last year's edition of AG and am glad to be back this year. It's an interesting store we're building here, and I hope you have engaging visits to its various nooks and crannies with their fascinating array of sexy and sometimes scary supernatural items.

For this particular story, I'll warn that there is a long build up to the sex, call it 7,000 words give or take. I hope you'll enjoy it when it arrives, and just as importantly, that you enjoy the story that leads to and surrounds it.

Amorous Goods: Scar Tissue

What does it take to heal a wounded spirit?

A lifelong collector of goods and objects from far and wide has passed and left the entire collection and the business built around them to his only known relative, a niece on a career path of her own. Vikki has taken on the task of administering the estate and liquidating the business and collection. However, she has come to find out that many of the goods have been cursed or enchanted with amorous powers that affect those who encounter them. These are the stories of some of those encounters with objects found at Amorous Goods.

CHAPTER ONE

It was Friday afternoon and the end of the week for Amorous Goods, which for now at least, wasn't open on the weekends. That made Dylan LeMay very happy as he locked the shop's door and flipped the OPEN sign over to CLOSED. The old-fashioned touch always gave him an internal chuckle, but it did suit Amorous Goods to a T. As he walked back across the shop floor, he noticed dust on some of the display cases. Damn, it just never ended, did it? When he'd been a Navy Quartermaster, tending stores like this had been the part of the job he'd liked least, even though he'd been as good at that as at the more challenging elements of his profession. Unfortunately, they had to keep the retail parts of Amorous Goods going in order to support the more interesting, the more thrilling aspects of this bizarre adventure he and his cousin Vikki Friday had been drawn into.

"Hey, Cuz," said a female voice from behind the sales counter.

Looking over, Dylan saw Vikki walking away from the door that led down to the basement where she did her specialized work, cataloguing the extensive holdings she'd inherited from her distant great-uncle, Ludwig Freitag. Freitag hadn't been his uncle because Dylan was Vikki's cousin by marriage on her mother's side, while the Freitags were an old-country family branch on her father's side. Blood ties aside, Dylan and Vikki had been among a generation of kids that had grown up summering together, while the very existence of old Ludwig had come as a complete surprise to both of them when he'd died, and Vikki had been the only blood relative they could find. Tragically, her own parents had died together in a car crash some seven years back.

"Well, speak of the Devil," he said back to her.

Both of the young people froze and shot anxious glances left and right.

"Oops, sorry," the tall, tough Navy vet whispered. "I meant I was just thinking about you."

While the actual existence of Satan was still in doubt, they'd seen enough evidence of supernatural evil to worry about inadvertently inviting any into their lives. The collection of items that Vikki's "Uncle" Ludwig had gathered over the years, and the old bordello that he had bought to store them in, spoke primarily of an oversexed old pervert. But through incredible experience, Dylan and Vikki had come to learn that a thick layer of magic overshadowed it all. And some of that magic was definitely of the black sort.

"Shit," grumbled Dylan as he shook his head in disgust. Then both he and Vikki had to laugh at their own skittishness.

"So," said the young archivist. "Did you sell anything today?"

"As a matter of fact, I did," replied the ex-sailor. "Did you find anything safe downstairs that we can put on the shelves in its place?"

"You know, I have to admit, the more I study the collection, the more I feel like we shouldn't be selling anything. This whole place should be a museum and research facility. I mean, my God, Dylan, actual magic!"

"Actual magic that is going to cause a lot of trouble for some unsuspecting people if we're not able to recover the things from Morgana's list. And for that we need the money that comes from selling the stuff you and she say isn't dangerous."

Morgana, of course, was Morgana Delacroix. The sexy, sultry, middle-aged vixen who'd shown up one day and warned them that many of the items they'd been selling at fire-sale prices as they worked to liquidate Amorous Goods, were incredibly dangerous. Dangerous in ways they couldn't believe at first. But they believed now. Believed enough to worry about bringing up the name of the Devil.

"Besides," added Dylan, "if we went public with what we've seen, the doctors would lock us in padded rooms, or the torch-wielding villagers would burn us out."

Vikki knew he was right and clenched her fists in frustration that she hadn't been able to come up with a way to turn Amorous Goods into a legitimate, albeit fantastical field of study.

CHAPTER TWO

When the good-looking guy with the wavy black hair finally asked if she'd like to dance, Lina Gutierrez almost said, 'Of course!' out loud. She'd wanted to dance with this guy the previous Friday when she'd first seen him at Henrietta's. However, even though they'd swapped some pretty intense looks and smiles, he'd never asked. The fact that a small blonde cutie had been hanging on his arm all night appeared to have been the reason. Tonight, however, there was no blonde.

"Sure," she said, taking his proffered hand and rising.

Lina's best friend, Tory, was seated behind the guy and waggled her eyebrows while staring at his butt, clearly indicating her approval. Typical Tory. She was gay, but it didn't stop her from weighing in on her straight friends' potential partners.

The crowd around the dance floor was pretty thick and the guy took the lead. Lina put him at 6 feet and maybe 180 pounds, so he had the size needed to break through. But she also noted and appreciated that he wasn't charging through like a bull, nor was he dragging her behind. He kept hold of her hand, but his grip was light, just enough to make sure they didn't get separated.

As they walked to the dance floor, Lina was already tabulating points. On a conscious level she knew it was unfair to be so judgemental right off the bat. Unfortunately, her personal experience had taught her that there were lots of creeps out there who were good at hiding their creepiness until it was too late, and she'd sacrificed something. Maybe just a kiss but often much more. But each was still a sacrifice, a loss that left a little scar tissue and made her keep her barriers up that much longer the next time. So she paid close attention at those times when the man would be acting unconsciously and thus more likely to expose his true nature. Like whether he bullied his way through crowds.

Tory often joked that Lina and their other straight girl friends would be a lot happier and more relaxed if they joined her in Sapphic-love and didn't have to keep protecting themselves against "the brutes". But she also really hurt for Lina when some jerk didn't reveal his controlling nature or philandering ways until Lina was weeks or even months into building a relationship.

When they found a space on the floor, Mr. Tall, Dark and Handsome turned to face her and hit her with a bright smile and beautiful deep blue eyes. He bent forward and leaned in until his mouth was close to her ear. But not too close, she thought appreciatively.

"It was a bit confused at the table," he said. "You did say your name was Lina, right?" His eyes were sparkling with good humour as he pulled back, and she automatically sensed he was laughing at himself by admitting a potential faux pas.

Lina smiled back at him and said, "Yes. And you're Craig?" She actually wasn't sure, so she was glad he'd brought it up instead of leaving her floundering around, trying to avoid saying the wrong name.

"Almost. It's Greg," he said with a little laugh. Leaning back in, he said, "I'm actually pretty bad with names. My grandpa told me to try and use a person's name as soon as I could to help me remember it. So, is Lina your full name or is it short for something?"

"Your grandpa sounds like a clever guy, Greg. My full name is Angelina, but it's been Lina all my life."

"Well, Lina, may I have this dance?"

"My pleasure, Greg." They both smiled at their new private joke.

He stepped back enough to create some room for dancing, and reminded Lina why, beyond the good looks, she'd wanted him to ask her to dance last week - Whiteboy could move. Beyoncé's "Dance For You" came on and he dipped a hip right into the groove.

Lina wasn't about to go all out Queen Bey on their first dance, but she did put a little shimmy in her milkshake. They were moving so well together that they were on their third straight song before either of them knew it. He escorted her back to her table and asked if they might dance some more later. She said yes and after a decent interval he returned and took her back out on the floor. Returning from this second twirl she introduced him to Tory, Barb, and the other girls in their group and found out his last name was Bartak. After the fourth dance set, she asked him to stay and sit with them since two of her friends had already introduced other males to their girls' night out. He was charming and engaging, but didn't push himself into the centre of things, listening far more than talking.

Near the end of the night, Greg said that he and some of his buds were going to be at music club the next night to listen to a band that had another of their friends as its drummer.

"It's a new band, so we're trying to drum up as much audience as we can. If you're into a grunge rock kind of sound, maybe we'll see you there." His eye-lock with Lina told everyone who he was really asking, but then he pulled back and looked at the other women with some of that same intensity and Lina suspected that even Tory was feeling a quiver in her cunny. "It's a new grouping of musicians, so I can't absolutely vouch for how good they are, but Kenny is a really good drummer. And - if you say you're there to see Foster Child, you'll get an extra drink for your cover."

"Foster Child?" said Tory under one raised eyebrow.

"I know," laughed Greg. "I think they all separated from their earlier bands due to, um artistic differences, and this is apparently their new foster family."

After they finished their last dance and began returning to the table, Greg stopped Lina at the edge of the dance floor.

"I hope you can make it to club tomorrow night," he said. "But even if you can't, I'd like to call you if I could."

He had to know the answer was yes, but still his query was gentle, almost humble. Could he really be this nice?

"Yes, I'd like that," she said.

He pulled a phone out of his pants pocket and they swapped numbers.

CHAPTER THREE

At 9:30 Saturday night, it was obvious that Greg had had one eye on the door to the club, while the other was watching his friend's band. As soon as Lina and her friends, Tory, Barb, and Kiara, walked in, he was on his feet waving them over to the tables and chairs he and his buds had been protecting from other patrons.

Greg Bartak could feel his smile breaking out of control as he watched Lina cross the room. He again got that Shakira vibe as she moved. Rolling hips on strong legs, small round breasts on a fit torso. Her hair was long and flowing tonight, while last night it had been in some kind of elaborate plait. It was thick and rich black, announcing her Mexican heritage as much as her tawny skin and slightly wide nose. He found her exotic and gorgeous.

"You were right," said Lina, leaning sideways into Greg's shoulder after sitting through a set. "Kenny is a good drummer. And the rest of the band is good too."

"It's a much different sound than yesterday," he replied. "But do you feel like dancing?"

"As long as we don't end up in a mosh pit," she smiled and joined him on the floor for some '80s throwback bouncing and spinning.

"So, what do you think?" Lina asked Tory later in the restroom.

Tory laughed. "You know, at first I had some doubts about his friends. They're almost too perfect, you know? Two cute guys for Barb and Kiara and a gay guy to keep me company? C'mon. It had to be a set up."

Lina's eyes locked alarmingly on Tory's in the mirror.

"No, no, wipe that worried look off your face," Tory continued. "After talking to them for the past couple of hours, I think they're all legit. These really are his friends and Jason actually goes all the way back to middle school." Jason was the gay and he was probably the funniest guy in the room.

"Sure, it's a first meeting and all, but so far, he's passing the friends test," said Tory.

The tension dropped from Lina's shoulders.

"And the good dancer test," continued Tory in a droning, checklist voice. "And the don't drink too much test. And the cute butt test." Lina smiled and hooked her arm through Tory's as they headed back into the club.

"Thanks for coming," said Greg at the end of the night, after walking the women out to their car. Lina had volunteered to be the designated driver to be sure she had an excuse for leaving with her friends. She was beginning to regret her precaution.

"Thanks for inviting us," replied Lina. "Kenny's band is really good."

"Yeah, it is, isn't it? If all the foster kids can get along, I think he might actually be able to take this band somewhere. Maybe we can see them again? Or do something else...together?"

She loved that he was hesitant in asking, and uncertain of her response. The last two guys she'd dated had been so sure of themselves that it came across as arrogant and demeaning to her.

"We can, if you call me," she smiled up at him.

Fortunately, he wasn't that bashful and returned the smile before leaning in for a kiss. A kiss that lingered delightfully but refrained from tongue wrestling.

"I'll call you," he said, as he handed her into the car.

When Lina started steering the car away, Tory, who was in the passenger seat, said, "So?"

"Kissing test. Check." All four women giggled like pre-teens.

They were only a few blocks away from the club when Tory's phone rang. She checked the display and saw 'Jason'. They'd exchanged numbers earlier in the night.

"What's up?" she said into the phone. "Test driving my number?"

"Actually," he replied, "we were just confirming Sunday brunch tomorrow - one of our traditions after Saturday night parties - and we all agreed we'd like to invite you and your crew to join us."

"Sunday brunch," Tory said to her friends. "11:30 at Center City Pub," she added after Jason shared the details.

Tory looked at Lina, whose eyebrows were up in a pleading fashion, clearly wanting Tory to say yes. "Well..." she drawled into the phone, "it looks like Lina and I can join you. And Barb," she added after Barb called out, "I'm in," from the back seat.

"I'm already promised to go to my folks' place for a barbecue," Kiara said from the other rear passenger seat. Her tone of voice made it clear she'd rather take part in this ongoing live version of Friends.

"So, that's three of us," said Tory. "Okay, we'll see you at 11:30. Thanks for the invite."

Kiara unconsciously vented her disappointment by saying, "Greg had Jason call to invite us out? Pretty junior-high way of getting to see Lina again, isn't it?"

"Sometimes junior high is cute," Lina responded happily, ignoring her friend's snipe.

"And I'd bet that it really was Jason's idea," mused Tory.

"Why, because he was hot to see you again?" snarked Kiara.

"Well, yes," Tory answered matter-of-factly.

Even Kiara had to laugh at that. "Damn!" she said. "I have to find a way to get out of the family barbecue."

CHAPTER FOUR

Kiara wasn't able to get out of her family obligation, but the Sunday brunch still went off wonderfully. Even in the much quieter atmosphere, with everyone a bit tired from two late nights in a row, the conversation was lively and interesting. Jason was still the funniest guy in the room, without being a clown. Marcus was insightful on the politics of the day and sparked some debates with Barb that were meaningful, but never confrontational. Lina figured they'd be in bed together sooner rather than later. And she was starting to hope the same would be true for her and Greg.

He was a wonderful storyteller, yet still managed not to dominate the talk. His input during the political discussions told her that their beliefs and values lined up very well. He really did listen to what people had to say, including the women, which was a refreshing change. And he looked at her with clear desire. The words intelligent, funny, and respectful kept coming to mind. And hot. Hot was another word that kept flashing across her vision.

Greg couldn't believe that Lina didn't realize how hot she was. He'd found many beautiful young women he met to be a little full of themselves. He realized it was a probably a natural reaction to having a bunch of hound dogs sniffing around their skirts since puberty, but Lina didn't have that. If anything, she seemed insecure about her looks. She dressed in effortless style but tended to go pretty heavy on the makeup. It hadn't struck him so much at the night clubs, but even on a sunny day like today, she painted herself pretty heavily. He wondered if she'd been a late bloomer, the proverbial ugly duckling, who hadn't yet realized she'd grown into a beautiful swan and didn't need to preen and primp to stand out from the flock.

But if too much makeup was the worst thing he'd come up with so far, after three meetings, he'd count himself lucky. She was clever and well educated, and clearly kind and loyal; her friends obviously adored her. And the sun dress she wore showed off her tan legs so flatteringly, that Greg had to keep consciously reminding himself not to stare, let alone not to drop to hands and knees and kiss them from top to bottom.

As the brunch came to a close, Jason once again came through for Greg, opening up another way for him to spend more time with Lina without coming across as too pushy.

"Hey," Jason said to Tory as they settled up the bill. The four men had insisted on covering the three women's brunches between them since they'd been invited guests. "I'm going to meet Kenny and a couple of the other band members in Retro Alley to help them pick out costume pieces. Feel like coming along and offering your perspective?"

Retro Alley was the name for a group of second-hand shops and antique stores just a few blocks from where they were eating. Like the Center City Pub itself, many of the city's original shops and restaurants were benefiting from the efforts to revitalize Old Town. Trendy retailers and art galleries had been lured back to the area by development grants and tax breaks and now stood shoulder to shoulder with stores that had somehow survived the decades of neglect and business migration to the suburban malls.

Taking the invitation as an open one, Marcus said sardonically, "Sounds like fun, but finding leather chaps for Kenny isn't really my thing." In the end, he headed off to a gubernatorial debate at the University and Barb opted to join him.