The Tawdry Tangerine Farewell Pt. 05

Well, we got here. Of course, life goes on after a story, so not everything will get fully resolved at the end, but I think it gets to a good, natural point to stop.

Like the previous one, this is self-edited. I hope it's not too bad.

If you want to drop me a message, feel free; I enjoy it.

-C

Molly

I called it as soon as I heard Next's "Too Close" start up. It's not my favorite song, but Connor loves it, and he was in close and personal before you could say "hand on my ass." I surrendered to it. The best way to seem like you're having fun is to actually have fun and, God knows, I love to dance. So I melted in, letting him grind, not minding the feeling of maleness against me, secure in the background knowledge that no way in hell was I gonna hop on him at the end of the night.

It was going to end tonight. That feeling of being coerced to go where I didn't want to go had disappeared. I'm not sure why I was so confident. I think that one moment of insight last night at the studio did it. Did it ... plus turned me into a wet noodle that spent most of her evening with her hand in her pants, mind firmly on some private fantasies rather than anything else that might have occupied my thoughts.

I might flash a little skin this evening, but that didn't bother me at all. Leah ditto. So, I was out dancing with my friend, who'd become a good friend last night, and another friend, who I hoped would become a helluva lot more than good. That was pure buzz.

When the DJ ramped it up into Ludacris, I glanced over at Leah and Rick. About the only surprise of the evening so far was how bad a dancer he was. Appalling. But, damn, that girl could work it. Hips and chest corkscrewing opposite each other, one hand on her thigh, the other through her hair, the glance over her shoulder at him as she swayed out to the side.

I reached back and grabbed one of Connor's hands and pulled him forward with me, my other landing on Leah's shoulder. As she turned to look, I slid up against her, foreheads touching, pelvises inches apart, for a couple of shimmy-shimmy shake-shake beats, then pulled away to Rick while surrendering her to Connor. I knew he wouldn't mind. He'd been looking at her the same way a lion looks at a gazelle.

Normally I dance a little back from a guy, but Rick needed help. A gentle push back against his hip as mine came forward, gentle pull as mine rotated back. I slid in even closer, dipping and back up as we swayed side to side, thigh occasionally brushing his. I bumped between his legs unintentionally, and he pulled back sharply. I knew why. I drew his head down toward me. The music wasn't too loud if I talked right in his ear.

"Nuh-uh!" My left hand recaptured his hip and I pulled, denying his resistance. "Half the guys in here are a little turned on by their partners. Just let yourself go and don't sweat it." I pulled back so he could see my face, then leaned in again. "If you get a boner, you get a boner. I won't mind." I pulled back again and laughed at the shock on his face. I shouted the lyrics along with the music, "When I move, you move!" and threw myself back into it, forcing Rick to follow.

Eventually, the four of us headed back to our booth for a break. I saw a moment of tension on Leah's face as Connor went to sit beside her. I figured he'd had his hands on her just like they'd been on me, and she was remembering my description: "...handsy on the dance floor and very handsy when sitting."

I pulled him up short with a peck on the cheek, letting him feel my hand dip into his jacket pocket and snag the pill bottle. "We girls are gonna go powder our noses," I said with a wink.

Safely away from male eyes, I dropped two pills into the little case I had in my purse for feminine products. No guy was going to go there. "Forty, forty-five minutes, then start to get talky and animated," I reminded her.

"Is this whole thing working?" she asked.

"Jesus, Leah," I snorted. "Are you kidding me? He's had you mentally undressed and thoroughly eye-fucked since we got in the car. Even Rick's feeling your vibe."

She shook her head. "Not me."

"Yeah, you. Young, blonde, stacked. I'm not jealous but, news flash: I'm jealous." I smiled to show no hard feelings.

She shook her head again. "You know what Rick said when he saw that." She pointed at my reflection in the mirror. I couldn't carry off flirty dresses like she could. So, I was rocking black: ankle boots, leather mini, tight crop-top, moto jacket. The only color was the dark red of my lipstick. Even my earrings were jet.

"He said, 'Jesus!'" She giggled. "And then he got all red and apologized. So of course, I said, 'Jesus is right. Sex on a stick,' and he didn't argue. And I saw him on the floor with you. Trust me, girl, if you don't mess it up, you are so getting laid tonight."

Our eyes met in the mirror and we both grinned.

"Let's do this."

We'd agreed on the rules beforehand. Some nudity was okay, but she wasn't having sex with anyone tonight beyond getting felt up a little and some kissing.

I'd brought up the whole girl-girl thing. "And if Connor suggests I try the feeling and kissing?"

"I can fake it for the camera, but I'm not into girls. Umm, you?"

"I can fake it for the asshole, but nope. Strictly D for me." Maybe that was a tiny bit of overstatement but not a whole lot.

Her whole body participated in the shrug. "A smooch or two and some boob bumping. I've done it before."

Connor gave me an eyebrow-lift question when I slid the pill container back into his hand, and I answered with a nod. I never saw Connor take one or give one to Rick, but forty-five minutes later I noticed the now-familiar signs in Connor. The next time I switched back to Rick I asked, "You didn't take it did you?" He shook his head and went back to trying not to look like a robot. At the next break, I suggested we adjourn.

The cold air of the car door opening was a shock. We started to untangle ourselves, Connor not having let anyone ride up front with the driver. I'd spent the ride sandwiched between the two guys. Leah had spent it on Rick's lap, her legs stretching across the seat to Connor's. She'd giggled when he gave them a little stroke.

As the car pulled away, Connor's driver at the wheel, we scampered down to the boat as fast as heels would allow and into the warmth. Connor grabbed four bottles of water, and we flopped onto the couch. Leah nestled back against Rick's shoulder, casually arranged his arm around her — Rick was clearly too diffident — so that it was catching a lot of breast pressure, her hand resting on his upper thigh. Connor, diffidence not being in his vocabulary, pulled me under one arm, hand gradually slipping down to cup me nonchalantly while his other waved the water around.

He didn't waste much time. "Anyone hungry? No? Okay, then what shall we do?" Everyone knew that wasn't an entirely open-ended question.

Rick spoke up. "My understanding is that's up to Molly."

Three pair of eyes came to rest on me.

"How about a drink?" I suggested. "I'll get it." I stood up.

Connor let me up but caught my wrist before I could walk away. "And...?"

I pretended to consider. "He looks like he's your brother."

The two men regarded each other, then gave noncommittal nods. Typical guys. Connor's hand dropped to around my leg, pulling me back toward the couch a little. The stroking motion he started definitely didn't stop at my hemline. I was only inches away from being fingered.

"It's a good look," I said slowly. Expectant expressions grew. "Though not sure how I feel about a crowd." I shrugged and grinned. "But let me have a drink or two and see where the party goes." The two guys looked at each other in congratulation. Leah took the opportunity to drop her eyes to where Connor's hand was, then back up to mine to widen for a fraction of a second in an ohmygod expression.

I pulled away and walked over to the bar, shrugging off my jacket. "Who wants what?"

Leah came to help. While I was pouring, she traced the image of the koi on my arm with her finger. "Lingerie models can't have these but I think it's ballsy as hell."

Act V, scene ii, I thought to myself: L. enters, cornering M. to ask about tattoos.

As I turned to take the drinks back to the guys, she blocked me and reached out to trace the piece of image visible between my top and skirt. "What's this?"

Everyone here had seen it, though the guys didn't know that. I'd shown Leah the picture on Al's web site, not wanting to deal with a judgmental reaction if I sprung it on her later. Surprisingly, her comment then had been almost word-for-word what she'd led with just now, except starting, "Body doubles can't..."

"It's—" I started and broke off. I took a moment to hold her eyes. We both knew the script, and Rick knew the rough outlines, but dragging out the anticipation just helped with audience immersion. Moving deliberately, I turned and set the glasses back on the bar. I turned back to Leah and, not taking my eyes from her face, reached up behind me to unzip my top. Hooking fingers in the spaghetti straps, I slid it down off my body, discarding it to the floor.

My peripheral vision caught the staring, even Rick. Leah's eyes dropped to study my chest. Her back was to them so she didn't need to fake lust but she took her time looking. I could tell it was tattoo, not bosom, that fascinated her. She let her eyes drop down.

"And the rest of it?" she prompted.

I reached behind again for the zipper on the skirt. The leather dropped to the floor with a whisper. Tanga-style panties in black, very low-cut, ultra-sheer to reveal the darker V between my legs where the fox's tail ended.

Connor was rapt. Rick was too, caught up in the eroticism of the act. I turned away from Leah's face and looked at the guys, on almost-full display. Connor continued to stare, eyes bright with excitement. Rick finally glanced up to my face and leaned back on the couch. "Leah," he said, "from what I can see, you're way overdressed." He started to stand but I held up a finger to stop him, turning my attention back to her.

Keeping her back to them, she echoed my earlier actions. She hooked the zipper at the back of her dress and ran it down, then drew the garment off her shoulders, letting it fall to the floor to reveal white lace. She reached back a second time and popped the bra hooks, letting the garment slide down her arms to floor.

Because I knew Rick would like it, whatever he might claim, I looked my fill and then stepped forward. I drew Leah's head forward toward mine: a smooch and a boob bump as predicted ... and two woodies.

Rick

Leah's top coming off was the signal. It got us far enough that Connor would be convinced we were committed to a night of debauchery, but not so far that we were treading into places Leah refused to go. Except where was Gavin?

Molly paused after the kiss ended, clearly expecting an interruption, but smoothly carried on. Turning back to the bar, she gathered two glasses and walked over to us. "One for you," she said to Connor, "and one for you, Rick." Leah followed behind her with their drinks. I could see the faint line of tension between her eyes, especially since she knew that Connor was drinking in every curve of her body and clearly enjoying it.

Had I not been stressed about the fact that the plan was coming apart, and that I was likely going to be up on assault charges by the next day, I'd have enjoyed it, too. I don't care how many naked models you've seen, two pretty women standing in heels and panties and nothing else after an evening of what, for all intents and purposes was foreplay, was nothing but fuel for the libido. Leah was gorgeous and Molly, well, Leah had it right: Molly was sex on a stick.

I met Leah's eyes. "It's okay," I mouthed and her forehead eased. I started to stand. It was ending tonight even if I had to do it myself. I wondered if I'd be allowed out on bail.

"Drink!" Molly demanded as she cut in front of me. Taking one of the glasses, she pulled Leah into the curve of her arm. "Connor, put on some music. I want to dance with her."

As Connor crossed back to the sound system, still eyeing the two, I caught the flicker of motion on the stern deck just before the sliding door opened. I hadn't heard steps on the gangway or felt any tremor in the boat that let you know someone boarded. I guess he'd been here already.

"Hey, Connor Fuckin' Thompson." That didn't sound like a pleasantry.

"What? Who the hell are you?"

"Her fuckin' cousin."

"Her..." He glanced over at the women. "What?"

"Not them, you asswipe. The one you're blackmailing because you're too much of a faggot to get pussy the right way."

Connor's defiant protest ended anticlimactically in vomit as Gavin, without warning, hit him in the stomach, then twice more in quick succession.

It was a long two or three minutes for Connor. At the end of it, I knew the eye would blacken, the nose was already bleeding, and his stomach was empty from puking. Gavin was holding a laptop. "Not this. I want the main copy you got stashed somewhere."

Connor's denial was cut short with a scream as Gavin's boot slammed into his ribs. There was a tiny cracking sound. I didn't know if it was a rib or just cartilage. I didn't much care and clearly Gavin didn't as he drew his foot back for another shot. Connor tried to roll away, gabbling, "Wait, wait. I'll give it to you." He gasped for air and pointed toward the bar area. "There's a safe under the floor of that cabinet there."

Gavin opened it, dumping bottles and glassware out onto the floor. "You can pull up the panel from the back corner," Connor supplied.

"Combination?" Gavin asked.

"I'll open i—"

"Fuck you will. Let you pull out a gun or somethin'? What's the fuckin' combination and don't make me ask you again."

A minute later he was in possession of four thumb drives, one labeled "Molly", another labeled "Rebecca", a third was "Adrianna", and a fourth that said "Lara".

"Huh, you've run this shit a few times! What're the other three last names?"

Connor started to ask which three he needed and got no farther than, "Which ones—" before he cried out again. This time it was a finger snatched up in a meaty paw and bent in a direction Mother Nature hadn't intended.

"Last names for these right fuckin' now, douche bag!" Gavin screamed at him.

"Barrish. Rebecca Barrish. She works with me. And Molly's her, Trevisani." He nodded in Molly's direction. "Lara Kolisnychenko and Adrianna Ellison."

"Are there any copies of these?"

"Just on the computer."

"Backups?"

"I don't back those up because I have the drives. I don't want anyone else—"

This time the scream broke down into sobbing. I could hear the finger dislocate. "I swear! The computer and those thumb drives. Nowhere else!"

Gavin took four long steps to the stern and launched the computer like a discus out toward the water. Connor made a convulsive movement but shrank back as Gavin's attention returned to the room.

Gavin turned to Molly. "You here by your own choice?"

She was sitting on the couch, hunched over with her arms crossed over her breasts. "Not really."

Gavin sorted through the drives in his hand and tossed one to Molly. "That's yours." She lifted one hand up and snagged it out of the air before going back to hand bra. He turned to Leah who was doing the same. "You one of these?"

She shook her head. "Don't hurt me," she squeaked.

"I don't hurt women, darlin'. That's for limp-dicks. But you want one that's not limp, you just look me up and I'll make you scream all right." He leered in what he probably thought was an amiable way and said, "You can cover up."

He turned his glare on me then looked back at the women, who were hurriedly pulling on clothes. "This one blackmailing either of you?"

For a second, I was honestly scared that they'd think it was funny to say yes, and I'd be on the receiving end of Gavin's titanic anger issues. But Molly shook her head and Leah spoke up, "No. He's my boyfriend and we didn't know anything about this."

Gavin's glare returned to Connor. "How do I reach these others?" Connor looked blank, so I pointed to the cell lying on the table. "Passcode." Connor babbled four digits. "Paper and pen."

"Just take the phone," Connor said. It wasn't meant to be defiant but Gavin clearly wasn't in the mood to ask twice. The backhand sent Connor to the floor and I watched the trickle of blood come out of the corner of his mouth.

"So you can have the cops ping it later? Fuck you, shithead."

Molly scrambled a pen and envelope out of her purse. Gavin pulled off a glove and scrolled through the phone. He copied some information down, shoved the paper in his pocket, and held up the phone. "Any of those videos on here?"

"No."

Gavin started to poke at it again, saying, "If I find you're lying, I'm going to break every single finger and then your feet."

"Wait!" Gavin paused and looked at him, a knowing sneer on his face. "There's a five second clip of her" — Connor nodded at Molly — "that I had in case I needed to remind her. But it's not explicit, it's just—" The phone sailed out to follow the computer into the river.

"Where else you forgotten?"

"Nothing, nowhere. I swear. I just forgot about that one because it's not very, you know." He was babbling as fast as he could. "Nothing else. Nothing at home. I keep it all on the boat."

Gavin reached down and grabbed Connor's hurt hand. "Let me explain something to you, Connor boy. You listening?"

Connor promised that he was.

"I find there's another copy, I'm gonna come back here and start breakin' bones and it won't stop until I get bored. And I got a long attention span. You unnerstand?" Connor hunched over the fist Gavin was squeezing and gasped a promise that there were no other copies.

"This is over. When I walk away from here, you forget you saw me. You forget you ever knew any of these women. You absolutely fuckin' forget about trying to get even. Do you still unnerstand me?" Another pained wheeze and a gibbered assurance.

"And you don't do this again. You get a woman to agree to let a piece of shit like you stick your dick in her, then that's your good luck. But you don't pull this shit again. D'ya unnerstand that?" Again the squeeze followed by the gasp of agreement.

"If you should forget, let me explain what will happen. One night, this boat will burn. And it won't be empty. You'll be in it, awake and tied to that bed downstairs, screaming over your crushed nuts for what little time you have left before the fire gets you. One more time, do you unnerstand?" He did. He was groaning as he swore he did.

"I'm not sure you do. Shitheads with your kind of money start thinking they'll just buy a little payback. It won't save you. The police won't save you. That limp dick you have as a bodyguard sure as fuck won't save you. I was kinda hopin' he'd be here tonight so I could put his ass down too since I figure he helps you with this shit. He's dogmeat if I find him."

Gavin loomed over his victim and gave a smile that came nowhere near being real. "In your world, you're a bad ass. In my world, you're a pussy, Connor. You see these right here?" Gavin lifted his arm to show some tats. "I got those inside and it weren't for no fuckin' insider trading. You get my drift?" Connor tried to nod but it turned into a squeal as the dislocated finger was nudged hard.

"And these?" Gavin now pointed to four red teardrops embroidered on his vest. "They're for other pussies who thought about being tough once I walked away. Rich fuckers like you. They're not tough any more. You'll be tear number five." Gavin leaned in and his voice dripped utter conviction. "I. Will. Fucking. Kill. You." No squeeze followed that statement, just a look of total promise. I believed him.