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Chapter Six
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Thanksgiving came and went in a flurry of food and work. Mom was called in to work extra shifts in light of the influx of people back in Jupiter Bay for the holiday. She was more than willing to grab the extra shifts, which translates into extra cash in her pocket. There’s no way I could begrudge her that, considering she’s still working her ass off to dig her family out of the hole he created.
Hewould be my asshole former stepfather.
I picked up extra shifts, too, in the evenings. The night before Thanksgiving is what is known as Black Wednesday, where all of the locals hit the bars and tie one on, making sure they’re hungover and miserable when they stuff their bellies with food on Thanksgiving.
Mom worked Thanksgiving at the Café. The knuckleheads and I spend time watching football before heading up there at lunch for their traditional Turkey Day feast. Then, when she got off at four, I had a small roast with potatoes in the oven already cooking for dinner. The last thing I wanted was for her to have to come home and cook a big meal after serving them all day.
Friday night was packed at Lucky’s. We had the local band that Levi plays in, and the bar was wall-to-wall with partiers. It was a damn good tip night for me, which I tucked away in the coffee can in my kitchen cabinet with the rest of my extra cash. I’m close to hitting my next goal, and can’t wait to see another payment done and fucking gone.
Tonight, however, was a different story at the bar. The Beaver hosted their annual Thanksgiving bash. Where we were busting at the seams last night, we were practically dead tonight. Hell, even the few regulars only stopped by for one, before heading over to The Beaver.
Bossman ended up letting me go at eight, which sucks balls, but there was no point in me hanging around and competing for what very little tips were being offered by the two men left at the bar.
That brings me to now.
I’ve heard doors opening and closing for the last thirty minutes, and I’m wondering if there’s a party somewhere on my floor. Hell, maybe I should crash it. Might be a good night to go out and make the acquaintance of the female variety. It’s been a while since I’ve spent the night with a woman, and I’m definitely feeling the need to scratch that particular itch.
But my mind only pictures one woman.
My body responds anytime she’s near, and over the last few weeks, my need for her has only increased. That night she ate pizza with us and I ended up nestled snuggly between her thighs? Had to jack off twice that night just to get any sleep. And that was with my brothers sleeping in their room across the hall, so that’s telling right there just how deep she’s wormed her way into my mind…and my pants.
I’ve only run into her a few times since that night, and our pleasant greetings in passing in the hallway wasn’t anywhere close enough to quench my thirst for her. If anything, it’s only fueled the fire.
Loud music suddenly pulses through the wall, a hard and fast beat with deep bass and screaming vocals. Rock music. My kinda music. My eyes zero in on the white wall that divides her place from mine. I can practically feel the beat vibrating the floor, shaking the mismatched plates in the cabinets.
What in the hell is she doing? Lexi doesn’t strike me as the classic rock kinda girl, but hell, I find myself questioning everything I’ve come to expect and assume about the fiery brunette. She’s completely turning my world upside down, keeping me on my toes in the best way possible. She’s unexpected, that’s for sure, but for some reason, I don’t seem to find the strength to give a single fuck.
I’m picturing her now, relaxing after a long day at the salon in a bubble bath with some Jack Daniels. Her hair is up and all wild-like as Def Leppard rocks her into a deep state of peacefulness. Fuck, that’s my kinda woman, right there.
Unable to stay away any longer, I slide my boots onto my feet, forgoing lacing them up, grab my keys, and head out of my apartment. The music isn’t horribly loud, but I’m surprised she has it up as loud as she does. It makes me wonder who lives below and above her that wouldn’t be bothered too much by the blast of her stereo.
My knuckles rap hard on her door and a new wave of excitement rushes through my body. It starts at my fingers and ends at my cock, making me crazy-hard in about two point four seconds. That’s probably a new record since I stepped out of my adolescence.
After a few very long, sexually charged seconds, the door flies open and a little old woman stands there, a bright smile on her worn face. She’s on the short side, like Lexi, and is looking at me like she’s about to eat me alive. Now, let me clarify that I was perfectly content, and well, hoping to have this look greet me, but that was when I assumed Lexi would be opening the door. But now? I’m not diggin’ it so much.
“Come in, come in! I’m so glad you’re here! We’re ready to celebrate!” she exclaims, pulling on my arm until I’m inside the apartment.
It’s somewhat dark inside, with only the overcast from the kitchen light illuminating the living room. I stop dead in my tracks when I see four girls, with drinks in their hands, all staring back at me with a mixture of eagerness and embarrassment written all over their faces. But what draws my attention is the woman sitting in the middle of the room, blindfolded.
It’s Lexi.
Or Abby.
No, definitely Lexi. I’ve never gotten a boner just by being in the room with Abby before.
“It’s time to get this thing started!” the little old woman hollers behind me, walking by and swatting me on the ass. “Oh, that’s nice,” she adds with an ornery grin and a wink.
What in the hell is going on here?
“We’re ready. Go!”
“Go?” I ask, confused, and rubbing the back of my neck with my hand.
“Strip! It’s why you’re here, right? My granddaughter, Alexis, is celebrating her divorce, and what a better way to rejoice than with a stripper! Oh, that agency was right. You are a delicious, big ol’ slab of meat. So, take it off! Take it off!” the woman chants, the girls standing off to the side giggling and chugging whatever is in their glasses (probably alcohol).
