The Leaves 03 (Nico) Read Online Free Page B

how happy they were and that was the soundtrack of my childhood, their happiness and that music. But now, not even that memory was making a dent in my foul mood.
    Out of the shower, dressed in tighter jeans than I usually wore, black suede ankle boots, a button-down black shirt, and black wife-beater underneath; I was almost ready. I grabbed my wallet, made sure I had plenty of 48/510
    cash and some condoms, grabbed my keys, locked the door, and walked down to the highway to catch a cab downtown.

    ***
Marcus worked the door at Roscoe Room six days a week. Zack had done most of his tattoos, and, because of that, and because I was a local, I not only didn’t have to pay the cover, I didn’t have to wait in line. Marcus, who preferred the company of men, had informed me I was good for business. “Hot guys like you bring ‘em in, Nico.” Well, this supposed “hot guy” was ready to take ‘em home, or the back room, or the parking lot; I didn’t care. I just wanted to pound my dick into something. I needed to forget about my fucked-up reality and the reality of thirty-three other women for as long as some random chick would let me.
    Five minutes at the bar, a woman I recognized from the video store decided to strike 49/510
    up a conversation with me, “How are you, Nico?” she asked. She was cute, her black pixie hairstyle slicked back like a man.
    “Yeah.” I didn’t elaborate. “You?” I asked, taking a swig from my beer and thinking I would move onto whiskey next.
    “That good, huh? The shop was so busy today, which is so weird because most people don’t rent movies anymore, mostly PS3
    games and stuff like that, but it was like an eighties night marathon for everyone and their brother. Seriously, we were busy from like five all the way ‘till ten. I didn’t stop. I didn’t even have a dinner break.” Yeah. Gina talked my fuckin’ ear off every time I went in that place.
    “So, are you here with anyone?” she asked, a mixture of hope and desperation in her voice.
    I held up my hand with a twenty in a uni-versal gesture of, ‘give me more booze’ and 50/510
    the bartender was in front of me. “Another Bud?” he asked.
    “Yeah. Another Bud and a shot of whisky; I don’t care what kind, just make it a double and whatever she’s having — ”
    “Gina,” she interjected.
    “Yeah. Gina.” I smiled.
    “What kind of Breezer’s do you have?” Great. She was drinking candy. I’d be out of here and in her, thirty… forty minutes tops.
    Twenty minutes later, we were on the dance floor. I was grinding against Gina, and her arms were wrapped around my neck like I was rescuing her from drowning.
    “I always wanted to ask you out,” she shouted. “I didn’t think you’d go for my type.”
    “What’s my type?” I shouted back, my fingers gripping her hip.
    “Blonde. Blue eyes. Surfer chick,” she stated.

    51/510
    I grabbed her chin in my fingers and got close to her ear. “Do you have a pussy?” I asked.
    “What?” she said, voice barely audible.
    “Do you have a nice warm pussy I can stick my dick in and fuck?” I breathed against her ear and waited for her answer while I worked my arrogant get-laid-magic.
    “Y… yes,” she answered.
    “Here’s the deal, Gina. I’ll give you a great ride for one night, but when it’s over, it’s over. Understand? It’s up to you, but I know how wet you must be right now from me just breathing on your neck. The choice is yours.” She stopped dancing altogether and leaned back to look me in the face. “A chance for one night with you?”
    “One,” I said.
    “I have to go tell my friends I’m leaving.
    Can you give me fifteen, twenty minutes?” She looked scared, actually terrified I was going to change my mind.

    52/510
    “Of course. I’ll be right here.” I smiled.
    She walked away, albeit reluctantly, when I felt a hand wrap around my thigh and work its way up. “Hey, stranger.” Fuck. Georgia. What timing. Georgia was a hell of a