Monday, January 10, 2011
What the hell you doing, Jamie’s head said to the legs carrying head and body down the stairs into the Interspecies Pleasure Club. This ain’t your kind of place. Get your tail out of here now.
Too late. His legs kept him walking behind the wolf waiter who guided him to a table by the stage. There they sat his body down. He was committed now. Might as well treat himself to dinner and a drink big enough to ease his nerves and shut his head up for awhile. This wasn’t home. Nobody knew him here. Nothing too bad could happen to him, could it?
The waiter handed him a flagon. “Compliments of Miss Gypsy.”
“Thanks,” Jamie said, even though he didn’t know any Miss Gypsy. He prayed it wasn’t Lamar in drag. That’d be too much to take.
Since lighting was dim down here he sipped at the flagon and let his nose bring him up to speed. “Interspecies” sure hit the prey in the throat. He picked up whiffs of a dozen wolves from at least three separate packs, cats all over creation, a buck deer in leather and chains, three types of birds and a clutch of coyotes. Most were dressed in biker costume, except for the ladies, who seemed to take “dressed” more like a suggestion. A few of the fellahs followed their lead. Jamie kept his eyes on his flagon and his thoughts to himself. The contents were beer, and not half bad.
Everybody seemed to be enjoying themselves. Jamie felt too wound up to join in. He didn’t see or smell Lamar, or anyone else he knew. Okay then. Finish his beer, say his good-nights and scoot on home before any of this depravity rubbed off on him.
Before he’d enjoyed another gulp the lights dimmed out except for a spotlight on the stage. A lean, limber she-wolf with legs as long as the Mississippi slithered onto the stage. She wore a gauzy wrap over a few strips of leather set in strategic places and a thick cable strung around her neck in place of a bra.
Music started up out of hidden speakers, with a beat hard enough to shake the tables and melodies in the higher registers that only shifter ears could pick up. The she-wolf went into a dance that sparked howls from her audience, even the ones who weren’t wolves. Her performance didn’t do much for Jamie, but he had to admit he liked watching her. She had an energy and a joy about her that lit up the dingy room.
Dang, she was something. Supple as a –
He leaned in closer to the stage and put his nose to work. Spirits of the Loup-garou. That cable round her neck was Lamar.
While she did her dance he went into his, using her body like a stripper pole to coil around. The crowd loved every bit of it. Goodie for them. So that’s why the loopy constrictor had insisted Jamie come here, to watch him slide all over a half-naked woman. In public. Gods of the pack.
He tried not to watch. He sat with his hand over his face but couldn’t resist peeking out between his fingers. Oh, who was he kidding? He couldn’t have looked away if his life depended on it. That damned boa was one big rope of muscle and he had every inch of it under perfect control. Forget the she-wolf – how did even a snake get into positions like that?
Jamie felt a tug on his loins and cursed aloud. The damned snake’s dance had done what the she-wolf’s hadn’t, and fired up Jamie’s mating urge. Thank the Loup-garou he had the table to hide under. You’ll pay for this, he sourly promised Lamar.
The she-wolf stretched out her arm. Lamar twined down it to form a puddle of coils on the stage. The coils shimmered and Lamar rose up in his human shape to continue the dance. The crowd devolved into animal grunts and hoots and whistles.
The boy was buck naked.
Jamie’s hand dropped to the table. Oh Lordy. What the hell did he think he was about, slinking around up there with no clothes on that sexy body, all twisty and flexible and –
Minus a couple essentials. Lamar was as slick downstairs as a Ken doll.
Right, Jamie remembered. Snakes kept their privates tucked away inside. He hadn’t known that applied to snake-shifters too. Sounded like neither had a lot of folks in the crowd. Sight of nothing made a bigger impact than the sight of a male hangin’ loose. All those gasps must be the target he and his partner were aiming for.
It set Jamie to wondering how much Lamar kept hid, and what it would take to get him to show it – no! He didn’t want to find out, dammit!
All of a sudden Lamar twirled himself up to the edge of the stage, right by Jamie’s table, with all his nothing right in Jamie’s face. The shameless bastard grinned down at him. “You like the show so far?” he asked.
“Get the hell away from me, you idjit.”
“Not until you give me a dollar.”
“Ain’t nowhere to tuck it.”
“I can think of a few places. You know your accent gets thicker when you’re flustered?”
“Mine comes and goes as circumstances dictate. I don’t fake it with people I like. You owe me a dollar.” He flashed Jamie a bright, cocky smile and swayed back over to rejoin the she-wolf.
Now the audience was watching Jamie as well as the show. The whispers had already started. Jamie hid his head in his hands and wished he was dead. I hate snakes, he thought.
Posted by Pat C.