Pied Pipers Pipe Page 2
“Don’t you worry,” Peter grumbled, marching pass the group. “My seat is just right here, near the door, just in case anyone decides to get too rowdy tonight.”
“The bouncer?” He gave a toothy grin, then turned his attention to Red standing behind the bar. “You got yourself a bouncer this year, huh?”
“Had to. Last year you and your so-called crew nearly put me out of business.” She didn’t even make eye contact as she mixed a drink and popped open three bottles of beer. “You want your usual bucket of Coors Light or something with more kick to start off the night.”
“Fuck yeah I want my beer and give me a Jagger Bomb!” He swung around in a grand gesture. “Get everyone here a Jagger Bomb.”
Red stopped, placing her hands on her hips. “Not without a card. No one’s getting shit.”
“Aww c’mon, Ginger.” He purred, pulling out a wallet with its chain clanking with each step. “Don’t be so mean about it.”
He slapped the card down and when she reached for it, he slid it out of reach. “I’m in no mood for your flirting. Why don’t you sign up on Sinder and get yourself a one-night stand, instead of hounding me like a bitch in heat, Tex.”
He released a long whistle. “Damn, girl. Someone needs to get laid.”
Coming out of the kitchen swinging doors, Chuckles overheard the comment and choked on his drink, ducking back into the kitchen. Red’s face flushed, cheeks puffing out. Peter watched her lips, wondering if she would retort or confess that he had just taken her on all fours barely an hour ago. Nothing. She lashed out again, sliding the card and turned to the register.
“You still want to buy the whole bar shots?” Her tone was every bit of a disgruntled mother’s tone when one spoke to a child who had thrown a tantrum.
“N-no.” He spun to the bar. “Sorry y’all! I ain’t that rich. Perhaps another night!”
The bar filled with groans and laughter. His biker pals were disappointed, but the karaoke regulars sniggered knowing full well what to expect if this was going down like last year. Many had paid for the unwanted drinks to make up the difference, or at least lighten the blow to Red’s expenses.
“A Jagger bomb and a bucket, right?” She slid the card.
“Yeah, that’ll be good to start with.” Tex drummed his fingers on the bar, his smile vanished. “I’ll give that Sinder thing a try. So, when did it become mandatory to pay up front?”
“New policy.” Red pointed above her head to a sign, pay as you drink, or water from the sink.
“You’re just ruining my fun. Can’t a guy just open a tab?” He groaned, pulling at his beard.
He pointed to another sign, reading: no open tabs. Pay as you go. “Thanks to you, this is the normal night of fun.”
When the receipt finally printed, she slid it, along with a pen and his credit card, in front of him. “Damn. What bullshit. I’m a regular.”
“You’re seasonal,” she amended, nodding at the karaoke crew. “They’re my regulars. Coming here one month each year doesn’t make you a regular.”
“All right, all right. Can we get a pool table for an hour or two?” He gave her a smug look.
She mirrored the goofy grin. “$50 for the first two hours.”
“Dammit, woman!” He threw up his arms. “Fred, pay for your damn pool table!”
A skinny twig of a biker appeared. He grinned at her, his teeth green a few already missing.
Peter cringed, but Red remained unphased.
The biker dropped a fifty on the counter, and she pulled out a tray with balls, chalk, and a rack. He took them and a group by the pool table roared to life, drowning out the karaoke. Peter snorted, frustrated that he couldn’t hear Wendy nor old Sam sing over the clacking of pool balls and barking bikers. Red came around the bartop, her swaying hips making him shudder as she dropped off and picked up beers from all over the place. For one cook and one bartender, she kept drinks filled, food coming, and tabs ready.
At last she came in his direction and he straightened himself. She flicked her hair back over her shoulder and placed an icy mug of water on his tiny table. The heat of her hand on his shoulder made him think of how those red lips wrapped around his cock, his blood rushing at the thought there might be a second round later. Her breath tickled at his ear, whispering just loud enough to make it clear through the music and bikers.
“Are you ok over here?” Her other hand rested on his knee, making his groin ache to feel her gentle touch.
“I’m fine. Just pissed I can’t hear over these assholes.” Tex was giving them the stink eye as he leaned on his pool stick. “You handled him like a champ, I’m impressed.”
She laughed, her hair slipping off her shoulder to rest on his. “You learn to take no shit in my line of work.”
“Well, I hope to make it smoother tonight.” Her hand slid up his inner thigh, squeezing until he grunted. Good gravy, she’s making me hard again.
“It’s your turn.” She breathed.
He paled. “My turn?”
“Your turn,” she echoed, rubbing her warm hand across the crotch of his jeans before pulling away. “Justin’s calling you to the stage, sweetheart.”
FUCK! She meant for karaoke. He took a gulp of ice water, then marched towards the stage.
The only relief is he hadn’t gotten completely hard, otherwise he’d have to cook up some excuse. Chuckles came out from the kitchen and started helping her cater to the demanding bikers, both registers dinging. He managed to get to the stage and realized he hadn’t put in for a song number two.
“What am I singing?” He cracked his neck, waiting for Justin to select a song.
With a sparkle in his eye, he gave a devilish grin. “Mustang Sally.”
“Of course.” Peter sighed, leaning into the microphone stand.
Again, the music started, his heel tapping to the beat as he sang the lyrics. In an instant, the bar went silent once more, and he couldn’t stop smiling. Screeching the chorus, he locked eyes with Red and she laughed. It started to feel like a secret conversation, and she snapped her fingers, dancing as he howled on. The song ended and he felt cheated out of the fun of stealing glances across the bar at one another. Whistles and claps came from the pool tables and his grin faltered.
“One more song.” He leaned over to Justin. “Let’s do another Tritt song.”
“I know just the one to match the atmosphere.” Justin was pulling it up on the system.
The name appeared on the prompter, and he smirked. “This song is for the biggest troublemaker in the joint, Red.”
The music started and everyone whistled and howled. Peter winked at Red, pointing at her as he sang. Fast-paced, he roared the lyrics to T-R-O-U-B-L-E with practiced ease and the whole bar was signing along by the end. Feeling satisfied, he left the stage laughing and thanking the karaoke peers for their compliments. He ignored the bikers and their kudos, intending to march towards the table when Tex’s landed a heavy hand on his shoulder.
Peter stopped, twisting to look down at him as every muscle tensed in his bulging arm and heaving chest, forcing his shirt to stretch across his pecs.
“Down boy!” Tex threw his hands up in surrender. “Can I buy you a beer?”
“Why?” Peter returned to his table, gulping down the rest of his water.
“Those pipes. Man, you ever think about singing for a band. I know one looking for a singer like you.” Tex waved off his turn at the pool table, handing the pool stick to one of the biker chicks who had come in with them. “Seriously, I bet you could go places.”
“I only sing for fun.” Sitting down, he locked eyes with Red who frowned seeing Tex talking to him. “Look, I’m working as the bouncer here. Perfectly content with that.”
“Well, if you get tired of the grouchy Ginger over there, just hit me up.” He slid his cell number on a business card to Peter, and he crushed it in his pocket.
Tex turned back to his crew, but before he could speak the cracking of a pool stick brought everything to a screeching halt. Peter jolted to his feet, blood rushing. Two bikers were screaming into each other’s faces, shoving into one another like two raging bulls. A girl was crying, covering her face. Most of the crew were already shitfaced, so they all watched the events unfold in a stupor.
“YOU FUCKING PUT YOUR HAND UP MY GIRL’S SKIRT!” roared the one carrying the broken pool stick. “I WILL CAVE YOUR HEAD IN!”
He raised an arm high, the bulk of bikers pulling the offender away. Peter gripped the wrist hard, wrenching it until the pool stick bounced against the floor. Before the other arm could swing, it too found itself dropping the impromptu weapon and twisted behind him.
“LET ME GO!”
“Don’t think so. You’re done.” Peter shoved him around the pool table and outside with insane ease.
I’ve lifted steel bars with more bite than this guy.
The bikers followed, none of them challenging Peter. Letting go, the man fumbled forward, pale from the ease he had been dealt with and pulled out of the bar. The girl sobbed, her words belligerent other than his name, Fred, as Peter glared with pure rage.
Tex nodded. “Let’s call it a night, boys. We got business to discuss about Fred, anyhow.” He motioned a goodbye as he straddled a white Harley Davidson Road King. “Sorry for the trouble. I’m glad she finally has some muscle.”
4
Closing Time
Marching back through the door, Red was tabbing out the regulars. Peter returned to the pool table, grabbing the broken stick, then gathering the pool balls into the tray. The music had ended, karaoke disrupted and the lights flickering on. She’s closing down early. That’s not like her. I’ve seen barfights here, cops and all, but she’s never just shut the place down over a scuffle.
He waved farewell to the karaoke crew and helped Justin load his equipment. Silence held strong between him and the patrons as they cleared the parking lot. Walking through the front door, he reached for his empty glass to find it gone. Daring to scan the bar for her, he met Red’s gaze as she punched in the tips on the last of the tabs.
“Lock that door, would ya?” He did as she asked.
He sat at the bar and watched her. “You ok? Did I do something wrong?”
“No.” She slid the receipts into the slot of the register. “Last time they argued like that, they nearly destroyed this place. I’d rather take a loss by closing early than deal with that shit.”
The bedroom in the back flashed in his mind and his stomach knotted. “You live here.”
“I do. Sold the house to pay for last year’s bullshit. Haven’t totally gotten back on my feet just yet.” Peter hissed, he had no idea, but Red had always kept to herself. “We didn’t do too bad. It helped making those dicks pay as they go.”
“Well that’s an improvement.” A motorcycle rumbled pass on the highway and they both froze, glaring at the front door. “Look, I’ll stay until we’re both confident that they won’t return.”
Her brow folded and at last, she looked him in the eyes. “I’d like that. Thank you.”
His brow lowered, his voice turning stern. “Did they hurt you?”
“No.” She snorted. “I was nowhere near the fight.”
He shook his head. “I meant last year.”
She froze, then finished locking the register. “No, but it scared the shit out of me.” Her shoulders shook. “The cops took forever to get here, and I couldn’t afford to hire them as security.”
Peter leaned back, drumming his fingers. “Well, you got me this time. Those rats will have to answer to Peter von Schmidt, your personal Pied Piper.”
She giggled. “Did you just call yourself the Pied Piper?”
Peter raised his eyebrows, then shrugged. “It’s a nickname from work. Kind of grew on me.”
Smirking, Red leaned on the bar, training his eyes to fall onto her cleavage. “And are your pipes that voice or something longer and stronger?”
His face flushed, and he scratched his goatee. “You know exactly how to make me blush, you know that, Red.”
“It’s cute.” Pulling away she left him sitting there in silence as she went back into the kitchen.
In the back, he could hear the muffled conversation of her helping Chuckles clean up after a night of cooking. Red came out and sat a cold mug filled to the rim with Bud Light and basket of fries in front of him. Before he could even say a thank you, she winked and disappeared back through the kitchen door. The minutes dragged by, the clanging and sounds of the sink soon falling silent. The lights went out, and she came through the doors, drying her hands in an oversized rag. Flipping open the cooler, she grabbed a Corona, then a lime from the garnish box and slinked around the bartop and slid beside him.
“Your dragging around like an old lady.” He smirked taking a sip of beer.
“I do feel old on night’s like this.” She sighed, squeezing the lime into the bottle. “Seemed like a good night to lend him a hand back there and give the kitchen a good scrub down.”
“You keep this place pretty tidy.” He gave her a side glance. “When I walked the parameter, trying to gather my bearings, I didn’t notice any trash or dust on any surface.”
“Well, it’s easier to maintain when I live here.” She guzzled another long swig.
“So, you opened this joint all by your lonesome?” he asked, curious to know more about her backstory.
Setting the bottled down, she laughed, fingering the opening. “Well, I guess my ex-husband deserves some credit for opening this place. As for keeping it running for the last five years, that’s all me.” Another long pull on the Corona, she exhaled. “Tex is a good guy, but his biker gang almost costed me the bar last year.”
“How can you call him a good guy if he almost destroyed the place?” Peter drained the last of his Bud Light and tossed it into the trash.
“Every month, he still sends me money to repay me for the damage.”
“No shit.” Peter blinked and watched as Red drained her beverage. “It can’t be much though.”
“No, but he’s never been late since he started last year. I can’t talk too much shit about him for that.” Spinning in her chair, her hands pressed against atop his thighs as she leaned in closer. “Enough about those assholes. How about you let me play with your pipe once again, Mr. Pied Piper.”
Peter laughed, averting his gaze as he blushed at the idea.
“C’mon.” Her hands slid slow across his thighs, the heat of them searing through his jeans. “You can’t say you weren’t hoping for a second round.”
Caving, he met her gaze and she batted her eyes. “If I didn’t know better, this was never about hiring me to be your bouncer or helping a customer who was out of the job.”
“You caught me,” she breathed, fingers clawing at his button and zipper.
“Were you planning to pay me in cash or…” He grunted, her fingers teasing his growing erection with practiced skill. “Blow jobs won’t keep the lights on, Red.”
She blew warm air against the tip and he throbbed in her hold. “You’re right.”
He braced an arm on the countertop and gripped the barstool under him. Last thing I need is to fall straight back. At least she’s going slower this time. A shudder rocked him as she began stroking his cock with her hand, the other cupping his balls. Her nipples had grown hard against atop his thighs as she lean into his crotch. Lips tickled at the underbelly, kissing, and teasing their way from the tip and down the length of his pipe.
Red didn’t stop at the base. Deepening her kisses, she suckled and licked his balls, making him moan. She paced herself, stroking his shaft as she made love to the tender sack making him grow harder with each lick. A nibble made him tighten as she denied his balls from toying with them. Her thumb slid to the tip of his dick, circling there, slick with precum as she pleasured her own clit.
She moaned, and he leaned forward, white knuckled as he fought the urge to speed the process.
Pulling off his balls, her blue eyes met his own with a wicked grin. And he throbbed with desire. The pleasure and arousal building at his core made his body feel boiling hot. Wet and soft, her tongue licked from the base to the tip. He moaned, and he closed his eyes, enjoying the primitive sensation of touch, pure and provocative. The tip of her togue teasing the opening of his penis before her lips slid slow and tight down his shaft.
She changed direction. A firm thumb stroked hard on the bottom half of his long cock as her lips slid to the top and back to meet the rising of her hand. She rolled his balls in her other hand, massaging soft and gentle, adding to the experience. He leaned harder on the counter and at last his hand broke loose from the stool. His fingers entwined with deep red locks, moaning as he pressed his dick deep into her throat, desire taking hold.
She moaned as she shifted, his cock riding across her tongue and connecting with the back of her mouth. She abandoned her play with his balls, leaning in and let him press her where it felt best. He rocked his hips, the stool creaking under his weight as it squeaked against the screws keeping it fastened to the wooden floors.
Thank you to whoever screwed these bad boys to the floor!
She released another moan, and she began sucking, her mouth tight on his throbbing erection. He began panting, fighting his rising orgasm close from exploding.
A little longer… this feels so damn good!
Thrusting in and out, he quickened his speed. Her nails dug into him as if hugging him into her. Slick and hungry, she took him in over and over. The tip of her tongue curled up, the hard nub riding the length of his shaft. And he lost it. Humming, he slowed his rocking as he came. She swallowed, twice more as he throbbed and released for the last time.
He freed her hair, trying to catch his breath. She sat up, a sparkle in her eyes as she licked her lips.