Miss Dixieland Ch. 03-04

Delta reluctantly parted her lips, letting Sasha's finger enter her mouth. The pill slipped against Delta's tongue, sweet and sharp, but mixed with the flavor of Sasha's flesh. Delta wriggled her tongue, letting the pill fall to the side of her mouth. She sucked for a moment on Sasha's finger. Sasha closed her eyes and leaned back her head in delight, slowly withdrawing from Delta's mouth. "You're one of us now," she said. And then, "It'll hit you soon. So come on let's dance." She pulled at Delta's wrist again, pulling her back out of the bathroom.

With Sasha in front of her, Delta quickly flicked her tongue, expelling the pill from her mouth. It had started dissolving under her tongue, the candy sweetness of the red shell breaking down into a pungent medicinal bitterness. She plucked it from her lips and let it fall to the floor without Sasha noticing. Close one. She hoped that she had not ingested too much of it.

Sasha guided Delta over to a small group of other girls, contestants that Delta had met earlier at Maison Pierre. Tabitha Pole, a friend of Sasha's from college, was dark skinned with large heart-shaped lips and long braids. Allison Sapp was a tall aspiring model and country singer who was currently a waitress at the barbeque pit in Norridgeton. She had long, straight flowing brown hair and the deepest Southern accent Delta had ever heard. There was also Bree Holland, a pediatric receptionist with large brown eyes and bright red hair that was currently wrapped in an elegant braid around her head. Delta learned that they had been doing pageants together for years. They were all beautiful, and Delta did appreciate beautiful women.

They were all laughing and dancing when Delta and Sasha joined them. Sasha soon threw her arms around Delta's neck and pushed her body close against Delta's. The warm weight of her barely concealed breasts flowed into Delta's skin as Sasha pushed her hips against Delta's to the beat. Delta lost herself in the movements, letting the music guide her body. She danced along with the other girls, feeling thigh and breast and ass push up against her.

After a few songs, Sasha pulled a hand through Delta's hair, bringing her face closer. She stared into her eyes intently and then down to her mouth. "Kiss me!" she shouted. Delta was surprised, but she lowered her lips against Sasha's. Sasha kissed her back, lips firm and hard, tongue quick and slick. After a few moments, Sasha broke off the kiss. "Fuck, this is fun!" She twirled around and then grabbed Tabitha around the waist, gyrating in time to the music, sliding up and down her body.

Delta grinned and threw her arms up as she danced. She was having a great time. Her muscles were warm with the dancing, and she felt elated, almost like a contact high from Sasha's presence. But then she caught herself. She was not there to have fun. She was there to uncover information about the drug that she had so narrowly avoided taking.

She excused herself to get a drink and took a good look around the club. Almost all of the pageant contestants were out on the floor, dancing with each other, mixing in with the other random men and women who had come out that night. She scanned the crowd but did not see Phil or Cassandra or any of the other judges. The bar was crowded, but she headed towards it anyways and then noticed the raised platform near it. The VIP area. That's where they would be if they were here. She skirted around the crowd to get a better view, squinting against the brightly colored lights that splashed over the crowd.

There were two men standing alone in the VIP area, their faces half lit up from the neon lights at the bar. The smooth roundness of Mike's balding head was bathed in blue, the sharp planes of Nick's face in a violent red. Their heads were turned towards one another, and Nick was gesticulating angrily. Mike's arms were crossed, and his shoulders square. He looked like a small boulder.

Mike said something short to Nick, and turned abruptly, his back lost in the shadows as he exited the VIP section, pushing his way through the crowded dance floor. Delta watched him for a moment and then flicked her eyes back to Nick. His hands gripped the railing tightly and she could see the line of tension in his body. He pulled his hand back suddenly and reached into his suit pocket. The white light of his phone screen splashed over his face, creating eerie shadows in the crevices of his skull. He plugged one finger into his ear, and said something into the phone, turning to leave.

Delta slipped past the sweaty bodies on the dance floor, eyes trained on Nick as he strode towards the hallway with the bathrooms. By the time she reached the hall and passed the restrooms, he was gone and the rest of the hall was dark. The door to his office was shut. No light shone from under the door. She touched the knob tentatively, but then noticed the other door, a metal emergency exit, was cracked open, a brick wedged into its frame to prevent it from shutting. She crept up to it and peeked through the crack. There was only a dumpster in her narrow line of sight. Slowly, she pushed it open, and slid out of it, easing it softly back against the brick that blocked the doorway.

A cold drop of rain pricked her shoulder and she held her hand out, feeling the pitter patter of raindrops on her palm. She shivered with its touch but took a halting step into the dark alley. Her heels made the tiniest taps against the brick pavement and she cursed herself, muscles tightening with adrenaline, but Nick was nowhere to be seen. She crept forward, staying close to the graffitied wall. She heard it then, the low sound of a man's voice from around the corner of the alley. The words were muffled by the rain and humid air, but the tone was clear. Nick was angry about something. She snuck closer.

"...don't care what you have to say about it..." she heard, then more muffled words. "...It's not... Yes. Yes. Ok. I'll think about it." She stopped in her tracks, barely daring to breathe as she waited to see if he had more to say. Lightning lit up the sky and light thunder rolled immediately after. With a whooshing sound, the sky suddenly let loose, and the light pellets of rain suddenly turned into a downpour, making streaking white lines in front of the street lamps. "Fuck!" she heard Nick grumble.

He turned the corner abruptly, almost knocking Delta over. His suit jacket was turned up over his head in a makeshift umbrella. His features fell open in surprise. "What are you doing back here?"

She wiped her wet hair off of her face and laughed, the rain running over her face. "I saw you come out back. I thought I could find you alone," she said. "I wasn't counting on the rain."

Lightning flashed again, but she saw his face relax into a confident smile. She supposed that he was used to women coming to find him. He shifted his arms, allowing her to seek shelter under his jacket. "Let's get you inside. I have a towel in my office, I think."

He led her back in, pulling the emergency exit door tightly shut after them as they entered. She followed him to his office door, which he opened quickly with the flash of a silver key. He gestured her inside, and shut the door behind her. With only the orange streetlight peeking in through the closed blinds, Nick shuffled through the darkness. She heard a click as he pulled the cord of an old banker's lamp and suddenly a dim, but warm light bathed the room.

It was a small office, and cluttered. The walls were half paneled in dark wood, the plaster above them painted in a deep green. Boxes and crates of supplies were stacked against one of the walls. Her eyes lingered over one package, lumpy and wrapped in colored plastic on his desk. "What's that?"

He followed her gaze as he dug around in a box, pulling out a white towel. "Just one of the raffle prizes for the pageant."

"I didn't know there was a raffle."

He tossed her the towel. "Yeah, neither did I until a few days ago," he said. She caught the undercurrent of resentment in his tone.

"Pageant life not to your liking?" She eased herself into a chair and massaged her damp head with the towel, pulling the wet hair up off of her neck. He watched her intently as she twisted the hair. Rivulets of water streamed over her shoulders, beading over her chest. Between her breasts. She gently dabbed the towel over her neck and clavicle.

"It has its perks." His mouth lifted in a half smile, showing his teeth.

She was suddenly very conscious of the thin fabric of her dress, plastered against her skin from the rain. Her heart beat a little bit faster, and she craned her neck, leaning back in the chair, stretching out her long legs and letting her shoes slip off her feet.

"You said you wanted to see me alone?" Nick's voice had dropped low in his throat. His eyes burned bright, even in the dim glow of the lamp. He approached her slowly. His jacket had fallen to the floor, and she could see the clear outlines of his muscular chest through his wet button up shirt. She stood, and without her heels on, found that he was taller than she had thought.

She reached out slowly and touched the collar of his shirt. "You should dry off," she said. She trailed a hand over his chest, reaching towards a button. She felt his breath rise heavily in his chest beneath her hands.

"So should you," he said.

His fingers slid under the strap of her dress, pressing against her collarbone. She shuddered as his fingertips slid lower, contouring the swell of her breast. Goosebumps prickled her skin. "I don't mind staying wet," she said. It came out breathier than she had meant for it too, more like a gasp than real words.

"Mhmmmm," he bent his dark head to her neck, and she felt the light pull of his teeth over the delicate skin. His tongue followed behind, tracing over the sensitive path he'd forged. She shivered as his body pressed against hers and delighted in the feeling of the cold wet of the fabric combined with the radiating heat of his body. She could feel his muscles move beneath the shirt, and she fiddled with a button as he kissed her neck. Hot when his mouth was on her, cold when his lips moved away. She knew she shouldn't be enjoying herself so much, but she couldn't help it. A light moan slipped out of her lips. She pulled up the bottom of Nick's shirt, wrestling the clinging fabric over his arms and shoulders, exposing his body to her.

His mouth found hers, hungry and wet, tongue slipping beside her own, teasing and darting in and out of her mouth, around her lips. His strong fingers massaged into her shoulders, pushing aside the fabric of the dress as he went. He found the zipper of her dress, and pulled, sliding it off of her so that she emerged from its shell like Venus, a pearl born from the sea.

She stood before him in only her underwear, a sleek dark thong, and a lacy brassiere. Beads of water from the storm still clung to her skin. Nick pushed them aside as he traced his fingers over the tips of her breasts then lower, across the fabric and over her stiff nipple. He quickly reached around her and unhooked her bra and with a hand around her waist, drew her roughly to him. Their hips crushed together, and Delta could feel the heat of his arousal pressing into her through his pants.

His two hands clasped around her waist and her lifted her up. She wrapped her legs around him and kissed him deeply as he carried her over, depositing her on the edge of his desk. He bent his head to her and his breath was like steam on her neck as he kissed her lower and lower, his searching mouth exploring the tops of her breast while his hands reached across the smooth plains of her stomach and down to her hip bones.

The feeling of his tongue pressed against her nipple made her call out sharply. She bit her lip, but It didn't matter, she realized. No one could ever hear them against the steady drum of the music and the beating of the rain outside. And so she let herself go, soft moans bleeding into the background noise of the club as Nick sucked and caressed her breasts. While she was thus distracted, he hooked his fingers under the narrow strip of fabric of her thong, and she shifted her body, helping him slide it off.

She opened her legs to him and felt the stiff cloth of his pants between her thighs. She reached between them and fumbled at his belt and zipper. He took the hint and helped her, kicking off his shoes and sliding out of his pants. The lamplight left shadows around the soft curves of his muscles as she admired his body, looking over the ridges of his abs. She pulled him to her, running her hands over his muscular and broad shoulders. Only his form-fitting boxers stood between them, and it was hardly a barrier at all. She wrapped her legs around him and shuddered, feeling the tip of his hard dick, covered only in cotton, press into her.

He pulled away from her abruptly, and she could see the dark stain of wetness that had blossomed where their hips had met. He yanked the boxers off without any more preamble. She had only a second to admire his large, rigid cock, the wet tip glinting slightly in the lamplight, before it was pressed between her legs. He paused for a second. "You're not on that drug are you?"

She was caught off guard. "What? No," she said impatiently. "I just really want to fuck you."

"Thank God," he said. He groaned and steered his cock into her waiting thighs.

She moaned as its head parted her lips and slid into her slick pussy. He pushed into her slowly, and she buried her head in his shoulder, biting his neck in ecstasy as his hips moved against hers. He was slow, methodical. Delta was not. She ran her hands over as much of his body as she could, muscles tense with need. "More," she begged, but his only response was a chuckle in her ear. He slid in her even more slowly and then eased back inside. She grasped his muscular arms as he did it a second time. A third. A fourth. She raked her nails lightly over his back, but he did not alter his rhythm. A fifth, a sixth, a seventh painfully slow trust. He was precise.

But Delta was not a patient woman. She knew what she needed. She wrapped her legs tightly around his waist and pulled, jerking his hot cock all the way inside of her. He moaned as she pushed herself forward on the desk. His hands rose to catch her, and she pulled him to the floor, pressing insistently against his shoulders. He took her meaning and settled himself against the hardwood. He clasped his hands cheerfully behind his head as Delta lowered herself onto him.

She moaned very loudly as she found what she was looking for. Her body shook with the powerful contractions of her orgasm and Nick dug his hands into her waist. "Fuck," he said loudly. She felt him inside of her, shuddering along with her as he came. "Fuck," he said again more softly. His hand fell from her waist as he took in a deep breath. She slid off of him, and fell to his side, pressing her naked body against his as he kissed her. "You are some kind of woman, Delta Bayou. Are you sure you didn't take any of those drugs?"

"Positive, why?"

"It wouldn't be right if you had." He looked up to the ceiling.

She nodded her agreement. "It seems like a lot of the girls here are on them, though."

He grimaced. "Yes. It's disgusting."

"You don't approve?"

"I agreed to be a part of this competition because I thought it would be good for my business. I know I own a nightclub, sure, but everything we do here is perfectly legal. I wouldn't have it any other way. Do you know how the cops are with people like me? My family is Colombian. We can't afford the risk of being associated with anything even slightly illegal."

She touched his hand softly. "Do you know where the girls are getting the drugs from?"

He opened his mouth to speak but suddenly there was a loud knock on the door. "Mr. Carillo, sir? There is someone in the VIP area who wants to talk to you. It's Malcolm Fox."

Nick sat up with a groan and reached for his clothes. "Thanks for the distraction, Delta. I've got to get going, though. Maybe after this pageant is over..." he pulled his pants on in a hurry and quickly tucked in his still wet shirt. She buttoned the top button for him, and he kissed her slowly on the lips. "Make sure the door is locked on your way out."

He slipped out quickly and closed the door behind him. Delta wiggled back into her wet dress and quickly got to work on his office. She flipped through binders, took a look in his file cabinet, and opened the drawers of his desk, but found nothing suspicious. She didn't think she would, anyways, not after what he'd said. She shut the door behind her after making sure everything was still in its place.

She slipped out the front, and glanced up at the VIP area as she passed through. Malcolm was there, he and Nick talking in the back. Nick's body blended in almost entirely with the black shadows, except for the red stars of party lights that flashed over him like blood. Malcolm's back was to the club, and the light that washed over him cast a long, sinister shadow across the floor. She looked away, and noticed Sasha making out with Tabitha out on the dance floor. She didn't bother to say goodbye.