Scandalous Return to Main Page
(Sequel to Grind)
Copyright © 2001
Willow. She's ignoring me or trying to. I know it's impossible because for a change I'm sitting right in front with the slobbering men all around me pawing and groping her. Does it bother me? I'm only human. I'd have to say yeah it does, but there's a consolation. It's me she wants even if she doesn't want to admit it. I'm the only one who can get under her skin, and she hates it. I watch as another veil falls away. It's the purple one. My heart and groin flutters as she gyrates and grinds against the pole. Total control. That's what she's about. For two months, I rid her of it. I got to see the wild woman underneath, but it was too much. She said the loss of control was seeping into other aspects of her life---her friendships and studies.
It seems that I made her grades drop, and her friendship with Silk is over as far as I know. Apparently, I was monopolizing Willow's time, her bed, her thoughts, and her heart. It's okay. I intended to do all of those things. Uh, not the friendship and schoolwork things if you get my drift.
The music is almost deafening and the bass of it can be felt even in your blood. Lights flash putting some in the dark and illuminating others. The smell of cigarette and cigar smoke mingled well with that of beer and whiskey. It was the Grind just as I remembered it. Why am I here? It's simple really. It's her. It's been almost a month since I've seen her, touched her, and I miss it all something terrible. Don't get me wrong it's not love, at least not yet. But, it could be very soon. The only thing that I know right now is that I'm miserable without her. I've only scratched the surface of who she is, and there is so much more left to learn. Control is a big thing to her. It is to me too. That's part of the reason I'm here.
Willow's naked now and dancing with the drunk man who had the gall to jump up on stage. I want to rip his head off, but I know she has it all under control. It's who she is. I can't take my eyes off her, but I bet you want to hear my story. Be aware though. It's not a pretty one by any means.
When you grow up like I did, control becomes a huge factor in life. I guess that I'm what you call a half-breed. Do they still call us that? Huh, I but someone still does, racist bastards. Anyway, my father was full blooded Cherokee. Yes, and American Indian, the forgotten people. What's that saying? "We didn't land on Plymouth Rock. Plymouth Rock landed on us." No truer words have been spoken, and I think my father felt each one in his life time one way or another. Again, I won't go into that, but I have to say once more that this country is full of racist bastards. I'm not trying to give him any excuses mind you. He was a drunk and a gambler. He bled us dry. My mom, who was white by the way, worked hard in Nowheresville, New Mexico, and he took each penny, pissing it away.
I know what poor is.
I had no control over any part of my life for a long time. My mother died not to long after I graduated high school, and my father . . .well he just left. I had nothing not a pot to piss in or a leg to stand on. So, I hitched out of there and haven’t looked back since. I ended up in New York, where I ran into women who liked the look of me, Ronnie Shepherd—young, dark, rakish, and lots of long black hair. This is what saved me: money and sex. I learned more from them than in any college.
These women, they thought they controlled me, but here is where I learned control. I possessed them. I had to or I would have lost myself all over again. I know it sounds callus, but I'm not. I just did what I had to do. Some tried to possess me—my heart and my body, but I learned not to let them in. It only made them try harder to crack the shell. I had stopped feeling and was just doing and living. That's when I knew it was time to turn them all away. Money and sex. Yes it saved me, but it doomed me as well.
I took the money and ran here. Where's here? Nevada, that's where. For a long time it's been me, my Harley, and the occasional woman, and the only thing that made me feel was the Harley. It rumbled between my legs and sifted through the air. Every time I ride it, I swear that I'm flying. Here is where I landed. I bought a nice condo, and since then I've settled in. Lonely as hell, but I settled in. I'm not the bubbly type of girl who makes friends easily, so I don't have any. I bought a dog instead, a Jack Russel terrier. Tiger is his name, and he's more loyal than anybody I've ever met. He loves Willow and misses her just like I do.
I get up to and yank a twenty out of my jean pocket. Another man is hovering over her now, but it won't be for long. I walk slowly to her, squinting with the now strobbing lights. The man tries to grab her breasts but she pushes him away. I can't help but smirk. She looks my way as if she knows that I'm coming. I see her eyes widen, and everything seems to stop around us. I stand in front of her gazing at the body that I know I can make tremble; gazing at the woman that I affect like no other.
She stops dancing and looks down me with an intensity that I'm sure that I am matching. The normal twinkling green eyes are dark with what seems to be a mixture of fear and pleasure. I don't say a word. I let my eyes speak for me, telling her how much I want her and need her. Her chest is heaving, and I don't know whether it's from the dancing or me. The fear is still there in her eyes, but in a millisecond that disappears along with all other emotion. Her and her damned control. Still, I don't miss a beat. I fold the twenty the long way, and with bold hands, I reach for her, caressing her torso with a feather light touch. I let my hands trail down to her hips until my fingers trickle over the green g-string.
She shivers but still her eyes give nothing away. My fingers stop at her crotch and they separate the silky material of the g-string from the softness of skin. I slide the twenty in quickly, but not before I feel her body quake. She can't hide everything from me. It's a small triumph but a triumph nonetheless. I give her one last meaningful look before I go back to my seat. I feel eyes on me. They are mostly the men, staring at me in awe. I ignore them.
I'm back in my seat now completely shaken. Now, I know you're asking, how the hell did she get into this predicament? What did this woman do to her? Well, about three months ago, I wanted a drink and to check out the night life. I found Willow instead. She pranced around the stage just as cool and calculated as the other side of midnight. She owned every person in the room, and she wasn't even trying hard. I recognized a kindred spirit when I saw one, and I wanted to make her lose it—that coldness, that control, and that manipulative edge that she flaunted around. It was just a challenge I was willing to take, and I knew how to do it too. I learned well.
The thing was that the tables turned on me. I had never felt such a burst of feeling in my life, and I wanted to hold on to it. I gave her a choice. She chose me. . .well for a little while, and I never knew that making love and being with someone could be like this. I don't think she did either. It scared her. Hell, it scared me, but I didn’t want it to end. She broke that shell around me with her wit, intelligence, her laugh, her body and her heart. I don't want to go back to that place where I was hidden. So, here I am watching and waiting.
The deep boom of the bass fizzles out. Her number is up, but I know that she'll be back later. Willow turns to go, but not before she looks over here; not before her gaze catches mine. I see her breathlessness and her confusion. But, just like that she turns and disappears behind the curtain.
Long minutes later, I feel a presence beside me. It's not who I'm looking for. I glance up to see Silk. Her look is one of exasperation. I turn away. I don't have time for this, but without permission, she takes a seat.
"Why are you here?" She hisses. She flips a series of braids over her shoulder in irritation.
"You shouldn't even have to ask that," I say calmly.
"She doesn't want to see you."
I look at her long and hard. She twitches. "You're lying and you know it."
"She's finished with you," Silk mutters but not with as much confidence.
"We'll never be finished, and Willow knows that. You know that," I spit back.
Her face falls. "You do something to her. I've never seen her like this. She was shaking when she came backstage. I tried to get her to talk to me, but all she kept saying was 'she's here.' When you two were together, all she could talk about was you, and when she wasn't she got all quiet. I knew she was probably thinking of you then. I mean, she would still joke around, but she wasn't the same. She just wasn't the same. What did you do to her?"
I laughed but it was not out of humor. "The same thing she did to me."
Her look was one of scepticism. Dark brows drew together over her forehead. "What's that supposed to mean?"
"That's between her and me don't you think?"
"If you've hurt her---"
"I would never hurt her!" I practically yell.
"Then what?" She asks in total confusion.
"We're good for each other. Together we have something we both have probably never had before." I can't believe that I'm telling her this, but I really having nothing left to lose or to hide. Not anymore.
Still confused, Silk shook her head in disbelief.
"With me she doesn't have to be the stripper, the student, or the waitress. She can just be Willow and not who people want or perceive her to be. Don't you see?! That's what scares her!"
Silk jumps at the vehemence in my voice. Big hazel eyes blink back at me. Then, she looks away. I believe that she knows exactly what I'm talking about. "Where is she?" I ask quietly but loud enough to be heard over the music.
"She's in the Champagne Room waiting for you," the dancer answers with a sigh.
"You know, the room you two first—"
"Oh," I bite my lip to keep from smiling. I can't wait to see her again.
I head toward the Champagne Room. It holds so many memories, and hopefully it is about to be the birth of a lot more. I turn the nob and push the door open. Nervousness besieges me, but I have to go in. I have to go to her. Looking inside the room, I see nothing just dim lighting. My brows draw together in confusion.
"Ronnie?" Her voice is husky, needy.
I walk in further to see her hiding behind the door. Her body is pressed against the wall, and her chest is heaving just like it was on stage. It was me not the dance that did this to her.
She hasn't bothered to get dressed. Breasts that I've craved for the past few weeks stand before me proud and erect. Eyes that I've seen glazed in passion, twinkling in laughter gaze at me with an intensity that I've never seen. I walk toward her slowly, purposefully. Her breathing gets more ragged and the room seems to shrink around us. The throbbing music disappears. It's just the two of us. I reach for her, hoping she doesn't pull away. My fingertips trail over her cheek down to her chin. My hand feels like its on fire. It shoots up my arm.
Willow whimpers. My heartbeat doubles.
"Wills," it comes out as a hoarse murmur.
She shakes her head as if saying no to something. Wisps of blonde fan her forehead. "Why?" Her voice is pained and trembling. I move in closer.
"You know why. I've missed you." My thumb finds a way to her lips. It wisks across them slowly, sensually. Her lips part, and I ease inside to feel the moist heat. I shudder. "God, baby I—"
Willow turns her head away, but her eyes meet mine. The fear is back. "This scares me. You scare me. I can't hide from you."
The heat of her body draws me closer. There is barely a few inches between us. I lean into her. I can't help myself, but she doesn't pull away. I look down to see berry like nipples nestled against the leather of my jacket. I groan at the sight. It makes it hard for me to speak, but I do. "Don't you see? That's the good thing. No lies and no barriers. People would kill for what we can have. It's okay to be scared. It's okay to feel. . .this." She looks up at me, and I lean my forehead against hers.
"Is it? But I can't seem to hold together who I am with who they want me to be. How do I keep it all separate from each other?" Green eyes implore me for an answer. I hate to disappoint her. I don't have one for that question.
I scoot back a little. "I don't know, Wills, but maybe that's something we can learn along the way."
"I don't know. I just don't know." She reaches up to finger the lapels of my jacket. She's done it a thousand times before. Her eyes rise to meet mine. She scans my face as if trying to memorize it, then her hands reach up to touch me. A look of wonder crosses her face. Her nose crinkles like it does when she smiles. Fingers trace over my face as if she thinks I'm a ghost. I feel her body quake. "Where do you come from? What do you do to me?" Willow utters. Her hand winds around my neck to burrow into my hair.
I can't take it anymore. I need to feel her. I lean completely into her body. A quiet moan reaches my ears as she pulls my head down. Our lips brush, wet and hot, back and forth teasingly. It's enough to stoke the fire that's being burning since I got here. My breathing turns ragged as she continues to brush and lift. I moan loudly as I swoop in for more, covering her lips with mine. Her whimper is hoarse and needy.
A second later, she goes wild. Her tongue plunges into my mouth, and she pulls at my hair as if trying to bring me closer. The intensity of the kiss rocks me. I crush her to me, palming her ass and pulling her into the grinding motion of our hips. Everything between my legs throbs, and the little noises she's making are making me wetter. I can smell myself. I can smell her.
Her legs wrap around me, and I pound into her with a vengeance. It's been too long, and I want her too bad. She rips her mouth from mine, and whispers, "Couch."
I look at her in utter confusion, but she doesn't speak again. I take it as permission to continue. I tear the g-string away from the back and part her cheeks to sneak into the wetness inside. It runs over my hands like lava. I moan at the feel of it. My whole body is alive again. Willow screams, "Oh fuck!"
Her greedy sex tries to suck me in. I resist. . .just. She throws her head back, thumping it against the wall. Her face is flushed. Her mouth is open, and her eyes are squeezed shut. She's never looked more beautiful. I can't get enough. I continue to slap into her.
Again, she screams, "Couch!"
My scrambled brain is trying to grasp the word. Who is this couch, and why is she calling out his name? Her hands start flailing as if pointing at something. I chance a glance over my shoulder. Ohh, couch.
With baby steps I move us toward it, shedding my jacket and groaning as many hands caress my torso, yanking at my t-shirt and pulling it over my head. I kick off my sneakers and tug on my jeans. Somehow, when we reach the couch I am as naked as she is. I tumble down, and she lands on top of me. Our lips meet in a moan. Her skin against mine is intoxicating and beyond arousing. Her breasts shake in my face and nipples stand out. I can't resist the temptation. I break away from the kiss and suck one in my mouth as far as it could go, laving the tip with my tongue. She lets out a strangled moan and grinds her wetness against my belly. I can feel swollen lips pressed against my skin, branding it. I palm a buttock pulling her into me, and exposing part of her mound to the cool air.
"Unngh!" Is the only sound from her lips.
I love this. I'm flying, and I wanna go higher. Opening my legs wide, I do just that. She dips into my lap, and our mounds touch. It's my turn to moan. She is frantic, bucking against me, smearing me with her juices. I love it all. Leaning back, I raise my hips off the couch, meeting her thrust for thrust. Electric jolts traveled to my clit, driving me insane. The smell of her, the sound of her and the wet slapping sounds were helping too. Her nails dig into my shoulders as she rides me hard. It was too good, too hot to last long. I am falling back to earth, fast.
I throw my head back and yell to the ceiling. Orgasm chases and catches up with me, lifting my hips almost off the couch. I can't stop my hips from pumping. I can't stop my thighs from trembling. I don't want to. I feel a rush of wetness against me, and I know it is not all mine. Her cry is husky and loud, and her thighs clamp around me as if she were milking each ounce of pleasure. Willow falls limp and sweaty into my arms. I try to hold her but my arms are like limp noodles.
Time passes, and thank God no one interrupts us this time. Willow still sits in my lap and lies on my chest. I can hold her now, and I do. I smile as I hear her humming in pleasure as I rub her back. I reach up to wipe the damp bangs out of her face. Her eyes catch mine, and I see something beautiful. She smiles and kisses a breast. I can't help but to grin back. It's contagious, and she is addictive.
My expression turns serious. I'll come after her as many times as I have to as long as I know that she's willing. She knows that I'm about to say something, so she waits. "Tell me that you don't want this for sure."
Willow reaches up to caress my lips with trembling fingers. "I can't."
That's all I need to hear.
Hope you liked it! I know it was a little different from Grind, but I thought you needed Ronnie's view on things. Drop me a line at Minerva
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