Chapter 3
STEVIE
“Cocksucking son of a bitch,” I muttered, elbowing my way past overfull racks of musty old clothes in search of a dresser that needed stripping. “Calling me a child. I’ll show him who’s a fucking child, motherfucker.”
“Excuse me?” The older gentleman behind the counter of the thrift store reached for his bow tie as if my words were choking him.
“Not you, dear,” I assured him in my sweetest voice. “No offense, but you don’t seem the cocksucking type.”
Sassy’s light snort came from somewhere over to my right.
“This is all your fault, McSassafrass,” I snapped. “Had you not—”
“Save it, princess,” she said. “It’s been three days since the youth group comment. Pull an Elsa and let it go. Oh! I found one. Over here.”
I almost tripped over a plastic crate of old vinyl records before coming to a sudden stop in front of the strange, avocado-colored monstrosity.
“That’s… what is that?” I asked.
The older man from the counter sauntered over with his hands clasped behind his back. “Ahh, that is an antique Dutch bombe commode. Fully restored it would be the pride of anyone’s dining room, and it’s quite sufficient enough to hold a nice Belgian lace collection.”
I narrowed my eyes at his snobbery. The man worked in a shit shop for god’s sake. The funny-shaped chest of drawers had a tag on it that claimed the thing was twenty bucks. “And how well would it hold, oh, let’s say… a nice dildo collection?”
The man’s eyes probably weren’t supposed to get that big. It didn’t seem healthy.
Sassy stepped on my toe and flashed the man a brilliant smile.
“He means PreMo… you know? Precious Moments? That’s what all the young kids are calling those lovely collectibles nowadays.
Stevie here has loads of them. He’s especially enamored with his ‘God Loveth A Cheerful Giver’ one, aren’t you, dumpling? ”
For some reason, the man’s eyes glazed over in rapturous splendor. “You have that one? Oh my-lanta, isn’t the little girl with the wagonload of Cavalier spaniels just charming? Would you ever think about selling it?”
“Oh, ah, sure. What’s it worth? Couple bucks?” I turned to Sassy and gave her the this guy’s a psycho look.
The man laughed. “Silly you. No, but I can give you three hundred for it if it’s in good condition. You two make a sweet couple. For a minute there, I thought maybe you were… well, you know.”
Now my eyes were the ones bugging. I ignored his ignorance as best I could. “Three hundred? Jiminy-bigots, that’s a lot of cash for a white girl and her chattel.”
I could feel Sassy’s entire body vibrating with silent laughter.
“We’ll think on that, Gerald,” I said, wondering what his name really was. “In the meantime, I think we want this dildo display case if you don’t mind. Saskatoon, sweetheart, your handcuffs will fit in the center drawer, don’t you think?”
“Powder puffs!” Sassy blurted. “Yes, my powder puffs will fit in there just beautifully, darling.”
Sassy turned and smacked me in the stomach. I winked at Gerald. “Don’t listen to a word she says. This one’s a tiger in bed, make no mistake.”
By the time we made our way back to Hobie with the giant green dresser in the back of the pickup truck Sassy had borrowed from her Grandpa, I was a good three hours past my freshness date.
It was Thursday, which meant I needed to shake a tail feather if I wanted to make it to my night shift job at the hospital without looking like a wilted salami.
“I need a shower,” I whined. “I’m really too pretty to lift things and end up so… moist.” I shuddered.
“You can shower after we drop this monster off at the chief’s house,” Sassy said, blowing a dark curl off her forehead.
If I thought I was a sweaty mess, she was ten times worse.
I had to admit, I’d kind of phoned it in when it was time to do the heavy lifting.
She may not have minded breaking a nail, but I wasn’t about to risk my own on that monstrosity.
Her words sank in, causing me to gasp. “Oh hayel no. We are not going there until I have a chance to reboot. This situation,” I said, waving a palm around my general person, “needs at least two hours of—”
A brownish blur flashed in front of the truck.
“Shit! What was that?” Sassy screeched, swerving to avoid hitting whatever it was.
I grabbed the dash and whipped around in my seat to see what it was. “Stop the truck! I think it’s a dog.”
Before she’d even put the truck in park, I was out the door, racing to see if the animal was okay. It wasn’t a dog. It was a giant brown catlike thing the size of a dog.
“What the fuck have you been eating, sweetheart?” I murmured, reaching for the stunned animal.
It looked like it was more scared than hurt, but I approached it cautiously regardless.
Sticking your hand out at a scared cat was equivalent to reaching into a blender and hoping the thing didn’t power on.
The cat let out a pitiful mew and waddled toward me, rubbing its pink nose against my outstretched hand before winding itself through my legs.
“Let’s not go crazy,” I warned the dirty thing. “These are Abercrombie jeans. Just because I stole them from my best friend, doesn’t mean I want you getting your manky fur all over them.”
“I thought those looked familiar. It’s not fair they look better on you than me,” Sassy said, leaning halfway out the driver’s-side window. “Load him in the truck and let’s go.”
“What? No. I’m not touching this nasty thing,” I said defiantly, reaching for the cat and pulling it against my chest.
“Sure you’re not. You and I both know you can’t resist an animal in need. And hey, maybe this time you won’t get it knocked up.”
She turned to walk back to the truck while I scrambled to follow, tucking the big fat fattie against my cardigan. Thank god the twinset I had on had come from the thrift store. I could burn it later and not feel bad.
“That was one time, Sassington! One time I got a dog knocked up. I can’t believe you can’t let a little thing like that go. We don’t even know yet if she’s actually preggo. It just happened last weekend for goddess’s sake.”
“It’s a champion trial dog. The puppies are worth—”
“Stop,” I groaned. “I know. We’ve been over this. Did I tell you he took me to dinner last night?”
“Who, Charlie?” she asked in surprise.
“Yeah. Sweet little Irish sexpot.” I batted my eyes at her as I chucked the skanky hoss in the back seat of the truck.
“Dude, I know who Charlie is. Why didn’t you tell me he asked you out?”
I shrugged and began searching through the truck’s pockets and glove box for napkins to wipe kitty cooties off me. No luck. “It was a dud. We went to Nonna’s for Italian, and… I don’t know. I couldn’t stop comparing him to Chief Hot Stuff.”
Sassy turned to look at me after she pulled back out onto the road. “Babe, you’ve got it bad. If you couldn’t make things work with the lovely Irish guy… man, that’s really something.”
I rolled my eyes and faced away from her, watching the barren winter fields pass by as Sassy made her way toward the secluded lake property where Chief Paige lived.
“It’s stupid is what it is,” I muttered. “Maybe I’ll meet some hot go-go dancer at the club.”
“Did you find out yet when Darius wants you to come in for the audition?”
Nerves roiled in my gut at the thought of exposing myself to a club full of horny men.
If any of them found out I was fresh, virginal meat…
well, let’s just say I’d considered -Priming myself some kind of chastity plug just in case.
Knowing me, it would only make me horny the whole time, which they’d be able to see and/or smell on me.
I would be like slathering a dog toy in peanut butter and tossing it in the show ring at Westminster.
By the time Sassy pulled the truck into Chief… Evan’s driveway, I’d worked myself into full froth imagining being so irresistible on stage that all the sexy boys would chase me into the parking lot after my dancing shift.
“I think I’ve been reading too many gay harem books,” I muttered. “I think I need to get one of those Husband and Husband cartoon books I keep seeing on social media instead. Those two are so stinking cute.”
“What are you going on about?” Sassy called out from the far side of the truck where she’d begun untying the straps around the green dragon.
“Those cute Husbands,” I said, speaking up so she could hear me.
“I need to get one—” Before I had a chance to finish the sentence, I slammed the truck door closed and turned right into a hard, bare chest. “Holy hot chicken on a biscuit,” I breathed.
“That… that’s a pectoral.” My hand might have cupped said pec just to be sure.
“Steven,” the deep rumbly voice said. “This is a pleasant surprise.”
“I bought a dildo dresser,” I blurted.
The silver fox blinked down at me. “That’s… something.”
I heard a feminine sigh from the other side of the truck. “Seriously. I can’t even.”
“I mean,” I gasped. “I bought a green dragon that could hold dildos… if you wanted.”
Sassy sighed again. “For the love of all that’s holy, stop.”
“N-no,” I stammered, digging myself in deeper.
“That’s not what I meant. I meant it’s a commode.
A bombe commode. Dutch. A Dutch one… I mean, it’s a Dutch bombe commode, whatever that is.
And it’s green. Well, it’s not supposed to be green.
That’s why it was only twenty bucks. I think I could have negotiated it down a bit if Sassy hadn’t gotten foul-mouthed with Gerald. But Gerald said—”
Sassy’s slender hand covered my mouth from behind. “Stop talking right this minute,” she hissed into my ear. “Trust me on this, big guy.”
I blinked up at Evan. His eyes twinkled with laughter. The jerk probably couldn’t help but laugh at the little pipsqueak stammering like an idiot.
“Let go of his nipple, Stevie,” Sassy said slowly, reaching around me to pull my hand away from the bronzed chest muscles I was savoring.
“I don’t want to,” I whimpered.
Evan’s eyes locked on mine. “The feeling is mutual.”
My arm froze in place, and I felt Sassy stiffen behind me. Evan’s grin turned feral.
“But if you touch mine, seems only fair I get to touch yours,” he rumbled.
“Anddd… I’m out,” Sassy said. Within three seconds she’d dropped the green dragon into the yard, chucked an overly fat cat onto the grass next to it, and peeled out of the driveway.
I stared after her.
“She just left me here.”
A pair of large, warm hands cupped my cheeks. “Lucky me,” Evan murmured.
And then he fucking kissed me.