completely. She had a cute pixie face, with big blue puppy-dog eyes, but the eyeliner around them was heavy and black. White base smoothed over her skin, and her full lips were painted dark crimson that looked almost black in the dim lighting. Thick hair had been straightened to within an inch of its life and dyed black with blue highlights.
She had obviously shopped for her outfit at Hot Topic. The blouse was black with a lace overlay and pink skulls stenciled across an ample chest. A black collar with small silver spikes and a bondage ring hanging from it circled a slender neck. The same kind of bondage belt slung over hips swathed in an extremely short black-and-pink plaid skirt, below which were fishnet stockings. From the knee down she had the same boots as Larson, all black straps and silver buckles.
The chain attaching my wallet to my belt slid through my fingers smoothly as I pulled it out to pay the cover. She motioned for me to lean over. I did and turned my ear to her so I could hear what she was saying. Her hand cupped my ear, lips next to my head. Warm breath left my skin moist when she spoke.
âAre you here for the bouncer job?â
Well, well, well, my night was looking up. Leaning close to return the favor, my fingers brushed thick hair back from her ear. It was heavy, but soft and luxurious. I softly touched the nape of her neck where the hair was fine. As I put my mouth by her ear to speak, I caught her scent. Under the makeup and hair product, close to her skin, she smelled like honeysuckle in the rain. It was a sweet smell that made my head swim for a second. My voice dropped to a low purr. âYes, Iâm here for the job. Who do I need to see?â
I felt her shiver as she pulled back from me and my fingers slipped across her skin. She held up a delicate hand telling us to stay put and went around the side of the booth she was in. Larson and I both studied her as she moved past us. It was an easy job, watching that skirt flip in time to the sway of her hips. She may have been wearing Gothic combat boots, but she sashayed like she was in heels.
Walking over to the bouncer at the dance floor entrance, she had to touch him to get his attention. He was spellbound by the inside of the club where people were bouncing and swaying to the thump of the house music. See, low pay makes shitty bouncers. If you donât notice someone who looks like me in your nightclub, then you are not doing your job worth a damn.
Standing on her tiptoes to get close enough to be heard over the music, the girl said something to him. He shook his head violently, dismissing her with a flick of a chubby hand. Anger flared on the girlâs face and her fist wrapped in his shirtfront.
Eyes wide, he leaned back in surprise. I couldnât hear what she said to him, but the snarl on her mouth showed that she meant it. A quick turn on her boot heel and she came back with him in tow.
Annoyance sat sourly on his face, but I could care less. I had his number as he looked me up and down with beady eyes. They were so far in the folds of his face they looked like tiny black dots. He was used to being the biggest, scariest guy in the room. He didnât have a muscular build; he was just big. A thick, square chest over a big barrel of a stomach with two beefy arms attached. Most people would look at him and be intimidated just because of his mass, but he was soft. Mushy.
Not that he couldnât hurt you. He could, and he would. In fact, he would enjoy it. There was a sadistâs gleam in his beady eyes, but at his core he was also a coward. He wasnât happy about the fact that I was bigger and scarier looking than him. The look on his face just said he was a bully. If I were here about a job, he and I would have issues. I knew he became a bouncer just so he could beat people up. I would guarantee he got in a lot of fights, but I would also guarantee he never fought anyone even close to his own size.
How do I know?
She had obviously shopped for her outfit at Hot Topic. The blouse was black with a lace overlay and pink skulls stenciled across an ample chest. A black collar with small silver spikes and a bondage ring hanging from it circled a slender neck. The same kind of bondage belt slung over hips swathed in an extremely short black-and-pink plaid skirt, below which were fishnet stockings. From the knee down she had the same boots as Larson, all black straps and silver buckles.
The chain attaching my wallet to my belt slid through my fingers smoothly as I pulled it out to pay the cover. She motioned for me to lean over. I did and turned my ear to her so I could hear what she was saying. Her hand cupped my ear, lips next to my head. Warm breath left my skin moist when she spoke.
âAre you here for the bouncer job?â
Well, well, well, my night was looking up. Leaning close to return the favor, my fingers brushed thick hair back from her ear. It was heavy, but soft and luxurious. I softly touched the nape of her neck where the hair was fine. As I put my mouth by her ear to speak, I caught her scent. Under the makeup and hair product, close to her skin, she smelled like honeysuckle in the rain. It was a sweet smell that made my head swim for a second. My voice dropped to a low purr. âYes, Iâm here for the job. Who do I need to see?â
I felt her shiver as she pulled back from me and my fingers slipped across her skin. She held up a delicate hand telling us to stay put and went around the side of the booth she was in. Larson and I both studied her as she moved past us. It was an easy job, watching that skirt flip in time to the sway of her hips. She may have been wearing Gothic combat boots, but she sashayed like she was in heels.
Walking over to the bouncer at the dance floor entrance, she had to touch him to get his attention. He was spellbound by the inside of the club where people were bouncing and swaying to the thump of the house music. See, low pay makes shitty bouncers. If you donât notice someone who looks like me in your nightclub, then you are not doing your job worth a damn.
Standing on her tiptoes to get close enough to be heard over the music, the girl said something to him. He shook his head violently, dismissing her with a flick of a chubby hand. Anger flared on the girlâs face and her fist wrapped in his shirtfront.
Eyes wide, he leaned back in surprise. I couldnât hear what she said to him, but the snarl on her mouth showed that she meant it. A quick turn on her boot heel and she came back with him in tow.
Annoyance sat sourly on his face, but I could care less. I had his number as he looked me up and down with beady eyes. They were so far in the folds of his face they looked like tiny black dots. He was used to being the biggest, scariest guy in the room. He didnât have a muscular build; he was just big. A thick, square chest over a big barrel of a stomach with two beefy arms attached. Most people would look at him and be intimidated just because of his mass, but he was soft. Mushy.
Not that he couldnât hurt you. He could, and he would. In fact, he would enjoy it. There was a sadistâs gleam in his beady eyes, but at his core he was also a coward. He wasnât happy about the fact that I was bigger and scarier looking than him. The look on his face just said he was a bully. If I were here about a job, he and I would have issues. I knew he became a bouncer just so he could beat people up. I would guarantee he got in a lot of fights, but I would also guarantee he never fought anyone even close to his own size.
How do I know?
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