“We should get back out there; get dressed.”
“You tore my panties off, what do you want me to wear?”
“They got Velcro on the sides, silly. They’re break-a-way panties.”
We both laughed, and got dressed.
“J.T.’s chompin’ at the bit for ya.”
“Really? He doesn’t seem very interested, to me.”
“He’s not like me, or my dad. Dad’s always said J.T.’s like a bull in a china shop; he can be awkward and clumsy, when it comes to women. He knows that yer available to him, but he doesn’t know how to get the ball rollin’.”
“Maybe you could help him get the ball rolling, but can you do it without making him feel bad? You two can really give each other a hard time.”
“Listen to me, I would never disrespect him, or any of my brothers. What ya saw earlier was us playin’ around, and we only do that in front of our parents, and now you.”
“I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to imply that I thought you were disrespectful to J.T. I just didn’t think it would help him, if he’s already finding it difficult to engage, if you gave him a hard time. I misspoke.”
“It’s okay, baby. Yer thinkin’ right, but ya didn’t know that we don’t do that shit in front of anyone else.”
“Wait, did you say parents? You’ve never mentioned your mom. I thought she wasn’t around, or gone, or… Does she come to the clubhouse, and will I meet her?”
“Fuck, I was hopin’ ya didn’t catch that… I don’t bring just any girl home to mama, sorry. It’s gonna be awhile, before ya get to meet her. She comes to the clubhouse, but only for big events, or to drop stuff off for Dad and when she does, she never stays long.”
“Can I ask one more question about your mom?”
He put his hands in his front pockets, with his thumbs out, cocked his head, and waited.
“Does your mom know what your dad, you, and J.T. do with women? You know, sharing?”
“Let’s just say they have an understandin’ and leave it at that, okay?”
“Okay.”
I gave him a kiss, and then we went back out to the clubhouse.
~ ~ ~
We went to get drinks, and saw that B.J. and J.T. were sitting at the bar. They seemed to be having an intense conversation, so we didn’t interrupt them. Marie noticed that we returned; she smiled and waved.
“I wanna put a stereo system in the room, so we have tunes. You wanna come look for somethin’ with me tomorrow?”
“Music would be really nice, and of course I’ll come with you.”
I really liked the song that was playing on the jukebox “Slow Ride” by Foghat, and I was dancing to the beat.
“I’m gonna have to take ya back in the room, and give ya some more, huh? Would ya dance fer me later?”
“Would you dance with me?”
“Nah, I wanna watch ya dance fer me.”
“Sure, baby.”
I noticed Marie was on her way over.
“Hey, I could use yer help in the kitchen, would ya mind?”
I looked at Danny, and waited. He leaned over, and whispered to Marie.
“Yes, I understand, Danny.”
Danny patted my behind.
“Go on, baby.”
Marie smiled, and I followed her. I had no idea there was a kitchen; I was wondering what else I didn’t know about the clubhouse. She turned on the light, when we got inside. Rows of fluorescent lights and fans turned on overhead. I had to shield my eyes from the drastic change of brightness, and she giggled.
“Chuck asked me to put out some snacks, nothin’ fancy, just some chips and pretzels.”
She showed me where the bowls were kept, and she grabbed a stack.
“Would ya go in that cabinet over there, and grab two bags of chips, and two bags of pretzels?”
I grabbed them, and brought them over to the long butcher’s block table, where she was standing with the bowls. We both opened the bags, and filled the bowls.
“When we put the bowls out, don’t linger by anyone. Put a bowl down, and keep movin’.”
She showed me how to hold as many bowls as possible, in each hand. We headed back out to the bar area, placed them along the bar, and on the tables.
“Thank ya, hun.”
“You’re welcome, Marie.”
“Danny wants ya to go back by him, now.”
“Okay, thank you, I will.”
~ ~ ~
I was on my way back to Danny, at the bar. He was sitting and talking with B.J. and J.T. I noticed another wave of people had arrived, and it was getting packed. I stood by Danny; there were no open stools for them to invite me to sit. Two guys from a different club walked by us; one young, and the other older. Just as they passed me, the younger guy says, “Hey, they must have strippers tonight!” Danny turned in his stool toward them, and yelled in a tone I’ve not yet heard from him.
“What the fuck did ya just say?”
It seemed like everyone in the bar stopped talking; you could only hear the jukebox. The older guy stopped in his tracks, but the younger guy kept walking. He seemed clueless to his surroundings, and that something was going on. The older guy yelled to him, to get his attention. He turned around, walked back to him, and finally realized something was wrong. The older guy turned around to face Danny. Danny got up, took long, powerful strides to the younger guy, grabbed him by the front of his shirt, crumpling, and gathering it in his fist.
“Ya better fuckin’ walk outta here now, while ya can still walk, mother-fucker.”
The guy didn’t know what to say, or do. The older guy yelled “Go!” But he couldn’t, because Danny still had ahold of his shirt. Chuck walked over, stepped in between them, and Danny released him. Chuck shoved the younger guy and said, “Get the fuck outta here.” They both left, and Chuck followed them outside, along with two other members from Danny’s club. The din of the crowd came right back, as if nothing had happened. Danny sat back down.
“I shoulda beat that mother-fucker’s ass.”
“Son, he didn’t touch her, and he didn’t speak to her, just about her. Granted, he forgot where he was, and didn’t consider who she might belong to, but it wouldn’t have been right to beat his ass. Jesus, ya nearly had him shit his pants!”
I was shocked by what I just saw, and hadn’t spoken since it happened. I didn’t know what to say, anyway.
Marie came over by me, put her arm around me, and whispered in my ear.
“Are ya okay, hun?”
She looked at me. I couldn’t speak, and she saw it.
“Danny, can I please take her to the kitchen with me?”
“Yeah, but this time, ya bring her back to me yerself, when yer done.”
I followed Marie to the kitchen and I held it together, until we walked through the door. I started to sob, and she put her hands on my shoulders.
“Hun, why are ya crying?”
“I feel that was all my fault.”
“That was not yer fault. That guy was in the wrong; ya didn’t do anything.”
“I don’t like to see Danny so angry.”
“He’s not angry with ya, hun. Listen, yer gonna have to get used to seein’ stuff like that, when yer around the club. Our men will never tolerate any level of disrespect from anyone, and what ya saw in there, is just a taste of what can happen. Yer gonna have to grow some thicker skin, hun.”
She got me a napkin to wipe my eyes.
“Take a few deep breaths and calm down, before we go back out there.”
“Thank you for being so kind to me, Marie.”
“Ya ready?”
I nodded, and she delivered me straight back to Danny, and walked away with a wink.
Danny swiveled around in his stool, put his arms around my waist, and kissed me deeply, moving his hands down to my ass. After the kiss, he stared at me for about two seconds.
“Ya good, baby?”
“Yeah, I’m better now.”
“What happened?”
“I thought what happened was my fault, but seeing you so angry, was the part that upset me.”
“None of that was yer fault, ya hear me? I’m fine now; don’t worry. It’s done, baby.”
J.T. swiveled around in his stool, and looked at both of us.
“How about a change of scenery? Abby, do ya know how to shoot pool?”
“I know how, but I’m not good.”
“Would ya shoot with me, and I can teach you?”
“Ya could miss every shot, darlin’, and I’d still love to watch ya shoot.”
I smiled at B.J., and then looked at Danny, with my eyebrows raised.
“Let’s go.”
~ ~ ~
After we got to the lounge, Danny and B.J. sat in two leather chairs, facing the pool table. No one was playing pool, so we didn’t have to wait, like we would have, in the bar area. J.T. told me we had to pick our cue sticks, and he would help me select the right one.
“Ya okay with rackin’ ’em?”
“Can you show me how, so I do it right?”
“First, ya gotta drop all the balls, by pushing this lever. Put the rack down, then put all the balls in the rack. The eight ball always goes here, with one solid, and one stripe under it. The rest of the balls go around the outside of these three center balls, solid balls in the corners, and alternating solids and stripes, like that. The rack goes on this end of the table, opposite the kitchen. Roll the racked balls up here, and make sure the top ball sits on that dot there. Be careful the balls don’t move, when you remove the rack, so you get a nice tight rack. The cue ball has to start in the kitchen for the break, which is this area here. I’m not teachin’ ya how to play slop, so ya gotta call yer shots.”
He broke, and a loud crack sent balls in all directions, with a solid going into a pocket. J.T. took his next shot at a solid, and made it, but he missed the next shot.
“Okay, ya have stripes. Lookin’ at the balls, which stripe do ya think is the easiest for ya to make?”
“The orange one.”
“I wanna see how ya shoot without my help, first. Go ahead, and try the thirteen in the corner.”
I took the shot, and missed.
“Ya need to have a stable bridge, so the tip of the cue stick stays true, and doesn’t mess up yer aim. Can ya do this?”
He showed me how to brace the cue stick with the left hand, using his cue stick and his left hand, and told me to demonstrate with my cue stick.
“Okay, now stroke the cue stick, through that bridge. See how it feels more stable?”
“Yes, I do.”
He took his next turn, and successfully made his next two shots, then missed.
“Pick yer next shot, call the ball, and the pocket.”
“Ten ball in the side pocket.”
Danny said “Ya look great shootin’ in that outfit, baby.”
I made the shot, but the cue ball fell, too.
“To avoid scratchin’, hit the cue ball at the bottom, which will make it stop, after hittin’ the object ball. Here, I’ll show ya on my next shot.”
I was learning things I never knew, and I was really enjoying myself. I was uncomfortable at first, because people were watching, and I wasn’t good. As I listened to J.T.’s instructions, I tried not to worry about the others, and that helped. J.T. was a good teacher; he was knowledgeable, patient and didn’t make me feel stupid. B.J. and Danny were also very encouraging with my shooting, not just their usual sexual remarks. It seemed that J.T. wasn’t as anxious as he was earlier. He was talking to one of his club brothers, so I went over by Danny and B.J., to ask Danny a question.
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