Fire In His Eyes (13 page)

“Well text me, when you get there.  Someone needs to know where you are going to be.”  She took a sip of her drink.  “Just saying,” she added and I could hear in her voice the hesitation again.

“Don’t worry about me,”
I sighed.  She would always worry, that was what big sister’s did, but I wanted her to be happy and excited for me as well.

“It’s not that, well it’s that, but it’s bartender boy, too,” she said sadly.

“Bartender boy? What do you mean?” I asked surprised at the sudden turn in conversation.

“Oh, he wants me to go to some family barbecue thing
at the beach and is pressuring me.  You know I don’t do other people’s families, and I don’t do barbecues.  I am not the sun goddess you are.”  She indicated my skin was olive in complexion.  I had our father’s complexion and coloring while she had our mother’s.  “Look at my alabaster skin and red hair, I am a moon goddess.”  She took another sip and then brought the cup down so carelessly the top popped off sending frozen mocha shooting up out of the top of the container.  We both laughed.  My sister was so dramatic, and terribly, terribly clumsy.  She always had the craziest accidents usually involving food.

“So, bring an umbrella, l
otion up and wear a big hat,” I offered.  She had been spending a lot of time with this guy, had mentioned it a few times, but had never mentioned it was getting serious.

“I don’t know,” she mused.  “He’s really sweet.  Who would have thought a bartender would be sweet.  You would have thought he would be rough and tough, well he is tough a
nd rough at times,” she waggled her eyebrows at me, “But otherwise, he is just different from the guys I normally see.”  Her expression was perplexed.

My sist
er dated losers, and bad boys. Sweet was never a word I would have used to describe any one of them.  Ever since her young marriage at nineteen to an older guy, and subsequent divorce three years later after she had caught him cheating on her, my sister had gone through three to four guys a year. She usually picked guys a few years younger, ones she could control.

“Well, that sounds like a good thing to me.”  I reached over to pat her hand
sympathetically although I wished her problems were mine.  I would have taken it as a very good omen if Victor wanted me to meet his mom, or any other members of his family, for that matter.  “Ana, maybe it’s time you took a bit of your own advice, and take a chance on something different.”

“Ah,
physician heal thyself.” She laughed and shook her head still looking melancholy.  “Hey, we are here to talk about you, not me.  Sooo, you’re going to text me where you are, and at least once every day to let me know you are good.  You are going to be careful with your heart, and you’re going to fuck his brains out.”  Ana was back.

I laughed, and made a
three check mark motions in the air, “Done, done, and done!”

I picked Victor up in my SUV at his apartment at six; he had asked if we could take my car since we would have more space in the back.  I was okay with that.  He also said if I picked him up it would be faster as where we were going was in his direction.  The city he wanted to take me was South of him, we were not going North.  It would save us a lot of time if I met him.  Excited about going, I hastily agreed. He was in the parking lot when I got there, waiting for me, and he looked fresh and clean, and scrumptious.  He had on khaki Bermuda shorts, and a white Perry Ellis button down shirt.  He was standing next to a small travel suitcase, a cooler, a beach bag with towels and a blanket, and a small silver trunk.

I got out of the car,
and went to the back of the SUV, eyeballing his luggage, especially the trunk, as he looked at my small case, and beach bag.  He laughed.  “Cooler is for the beach, as are the towels and blanket, and the trunk is a surprise, no peeking,” he stated firmly as he placed his items and rearranged things so that everything would fit around the trunk and still give him optimal viewing.  He held his hand out for my keys, and when I dropped them into his hand, he pulled me in for a kiss.  It was sweet, and tender, he held me close around the waist with the hand he held the keys with, and stroked my hair and cheek with the other.  When the kiss ended, he hugged me close and whispered into my ear, “I’m going to let you into my world this weekend.  Trust me, okay.”

I pulled back, confused, and looked a
t him I am sure, with a puzzled expression on my face.  This was what I had wanted.  He just looked back at me.  His blue eyes strangely were pleading with me, but he did not say anything.  I nodded, and then stepped up to hug him again, giving him my answer that way.  He held me there for a full minute.  I felt safe.  I did trust him, didn’t I?

“We are about half way there,” Victor announced two hours into the drive.  “Do you need a bathroom break or anything?” he asked making swirling motions with his thumb on my knee.  I loved how he always had to touch me.

“Actually,
yes.  I could use a short break to stretch my legs.”  He pulled over into a Seven Eleven convenience store.  “We might as well gas up, Victor, while we are here.  I will pay for the gas inside, forty okay.”

“I’ll pay this weekend, Monica,” he stated firmly.

“Victor, I don’t mind, really,” I said.  I knew money was an issue for him.  It was one of the reasons he had left the military and the job he loved.  I did not know where his money issues stemmed from, because he was so close-mouthed about his past.  He wore nice clothes, and had a nice car, but other than that he was always very frugal with his money.  I didn’t want this weekend to be a burden on him.  I made a good salary as a teacher, especially since I was single, and had no debts from college due to the scholarships I had received.  “You can spoil me when we get to where ever we are going.  I pay for the gas and one meal, okay?”

He laughed.  “Deal,” he said and
the twinkle was back in his eye.  He looked somewhat thankful as well.

I went into the store and
pre-paid forty dollars for the gas and then went to use the rest room; I also bought two bottles of water and a couple of protein energy bars.  It was a long drive and I hadn’t eaten dinner in my rush to pack after work and get ready.  Victor must have finished pumping the gas already because he was parked up front now waiting for me.  I got back into the SUV and handed him a bottle of water and offered him one of the protein bars.  “Thanks,” he said taking the water but turning down the bar, and then he leaned over stealing a quick kiss.

We began t
he ride continuing south.  “So, now that we are half way there, think you could tell me where we are going?”  I pleaded turning in my seat to better view him.  The man was gorgeous. “The suspense is killing me.”

His expression turned
foreboding.  “Yeah, umm, Ft Lauderdale.”

“Cool, I have never been there,” I replied a little confused.  “Why so grim?”

“But,” he interrupted my thoughts.  “It’s what we are going to do when we are there that has me worried.”  He watched me from the corner of his eyes assessing my reaction.

“Why?  What are we going to do?”
  I was suddenly nervous.

“Okay, I have been trying to think
about how to tell you some things about me.  I have been keeping you at a distance for many reasons, but I want you to trust me.”  Butterflies formed in my stomach.  “First off, I want you to know you are the most beautiful woman I have ever dated. I’ve told you many times how attracted I am to you, and I am. I find you so god dammed stunning and sexy, I think and dream about you every night, well, in my dreams you have bigger tits,” he laughed nervously.  I was thrilled at his words.  He was so earnest saying them. He looked at me again to gauge my reaction so far.  His comments made me feel better. “But, I have always been a man with a great sexual appetite, I like visuals.  I love to look at beautiful women, all kinds.  It turns me on so much.  I had a porn addiction for a while, I guess, but got it under control.”  He looked at me again watching and waiting.

“Okay,” I responded.  “So far so good.  You
have not scared me away yet,” I stated.  I think I understood what he was talking about.

“
You’re not upset?  Jealous?” he asked, confused.

“No. 
I know you find me attractive.  I can appreciate a good looking man.  It doesn’t mean I would want to jump their bones.  I could admire their bodies.  I read romance novels and get excited reading them.  If something is hot, it’s hot.”

“Yeah!  You do get it! Cool!”  He didn’t look so worried
anymore.  He continued.  “So once in a while I like to go to clubs, to watch the different girls.  You know a fun night out with the guys, sometimes alone if I am not seeing anyone.  I’ve always wanted to bring someone, a girl with me,” he looked at me again.

“You want to go to a
strip club with me?”  I asked and I mulled it over.

“Yes, I do,”
he told me honestly.

“C
an I ask you one question first?”  Something he has said earlier had stuck in my mind.

“Okay.”

Not sure if I should ask, but unable to stop myself the question came out.  “Have you ever brought another girl to one of these clubs?”

He looked at me again. 
“One girl, but she didn’t much care for it, and I am not ready to talk about her just yet with you, okay?”  I nodded
.  Just yet?  Good sign.
  After a moment he continued, “So, as I was saying, I like the visual stimulation of porn.  I like to see girls in lingerie, and naked, touching themselves.  I love to see YOU in lingerie and naked, touching yourself for me, but I wanted to be honest with you about who I am.”  He paused and watched me for my reaction. I felt like this was some kind of test. “So, do you want to try this, go to one of these places with me?”

“Yeah, sure!”  I really didn’t see any problem with what he was talking about.  I really believed this was something we
could enjoy together.

“Really?” he was excited.

“Really, let’s do it,” I replied.

He looked happy.  “Have you ever hea
rd of the Dollhouse?”

I squealed.  “You mean from the Motley Crue song
Girls Girls Girls
?”

“Yes!
”  And, then, “Hey, I didn’t think you remembered bands and names?”  He was laughing at my reaction, and his hand stroked my leg.

“Motley Crue, Victor. 
Puh-lease!
 
I love your close shaved head, very sexy.  But, my god, in my pre-adolescent years I was always about the hair bands.
 
Those guys were hot!”  I broke out into song singing the first stanza that discussed the club called the Dollhouse.

“Okay, stop singing please
,” he winced in mock pain and then asked still laughing, “and should I be jealous?”

“Not, if you are willing to wear
lycra pants, no shirt, and a wig,” I teased.

“Well, how about just naked, and maybe the wig.  But I refuse to wear lycra,” he laughed. “I know that song too, but my favorite words
come from the next part of the song.  He sang a few bars, about being a really good boy, but wanting girls to dance for him. All the while, he glanced at me sideways raising and lowering his eyebrows suggestively.

“
I’ve danced for you,” I murmured huskily.

“I remember, baby.  It is a night I will never forget.  The best.”  His smiled at me then, and it spoke volumes.  It was more than words could say, and told me he had feelings for me.  I smiled back, and he leaned in for a soft kiss.

I reclined back in my seat and I sighed, and then casually said, “And, I’ve always wanted to try toys.  But now that I know you like the dancing, I can do that for you more often.”  I laughed.

“What?”  He sounded shocked, looked at me quizzically and then h
is hands hit the steering wheel and this time his smile lit up the car.  “Well, then I’ve got a surprise for you in the trunk.”

“Really?” The butterflies were back.  But I was curious.
“You have toys, in that trunk?”

Victor
nodded mischievously. “Would you be willing to try some things with me? Some toys?”  he questioned.  His expression, his eyes, the fire there, told me what my answer would be.

Looking him dead in the eye I responded, “I would like to try everything with you.”

His hand went from my knee to grasp my hand, and he brought it to his lips and kissed the back of my hand.  It was so gallant, so Victorian, and so inappropriate after a discussion of toys.  But, it was exactly what I wanted.  It was romantic.  He relaxed into his seat, and the rest of the drive to Ft. Lauderdale flew by.

We got to our hotel a little after ten and freshened up a bit before heading out to the Dollhouse. Victor surprised me with a sky gold shimmery cocktail dress.  It was a simple design, and revealed a lot of leg and hugged all my contours.  When I put it on for him and twirled his eyes burst into flame. He wore a tight black t-shirt and a pair of tan cargo shorts. “It’s not a fancy place,” he informed me, “but the girls do dress up a bit.”

The club was actually in Sunny Isles Beach, just twenty minutes from Ft. Lauderdale and
we arrived just a bit after eleven.  It was also a bit more than just a strip club as I soon found out.  When we got there, the bouncer at the door smiled at me appreciatively, took the cover charge from Victor and let us in.  Once inside, it looked like a typical bar with the low lighting in various neons, except there were groups of tables arranged around ten or so small stages, with girls dancing on each of them.  The waitresses wore midriff tank tops with the Dollhouse insignia revealing their flat bellies, short black leather miniskirts, and heels.  Some wore fish net stockings but not all. Victor gave me a quick tour of the place, showing me and letting me peer into the side rooms when it was allowed.  There were a couple of friction rooms on one side of the main area.  He explained this is where guys could go and get a lap dance, and pay to have women touch you through the clothing, and you could pay extra to touch the girls through their clothing.  Most places didn’t allow it, but this place did if the price was right.  On the other side of the club were champagne rooms, and VIP rooms.  In a champagne room, a couple could have privacy, and watch girls through specially treated glass.  You could bring your own girl in to a champagne room, or you could hire one of the dancers.  The VIP rooms were for special groups, swingers, or people who wanted privacy because they were into some kind of fetish in that they needed the extra confidentiality.  Victor wasn’t into that, he told me, and I was glad for that.  I didn’t think I would feel comfortable sharing him with another girl. He asked me if I would go into one of the champagne rooms with him later.  I agreed to go, and was excited that we wouldn’t have to wait until the hotel later to touch.