Fearless Curves (8 page)

But I did want more. More of all of it. I wanted to be bad. I wanted to do things that people would never think I would ever do, things that would shock people. Most of all, however, I wanted to get Jack back in my bed again. I wanted him more than anyone to show me how to be even naughtier. I wanted to show Jack Anker, just how bad I could be.

But my hangover needed attention and work needed to be done. Vic was in Hawaii with his ex-stripper of a wife, probably fucking like rabbits and having the time of their lives. I had to take care of the law office in the meantime. Jack’s preliminary hearing was the only court date on the schedule, but I had clients to meet with, briefs to write and I’d been thinking that maybe I could do something about the disorderly mess that was taking over the office.

Jack would have to wait but maybe that was a good thing. Some perspective couldn’t hurt. Maybe by the middle of the week, I’d decide this past weekend was just a fluke and not for me. Maybe the thrill would tarnish a bit and I’d come to my senses. Maybe I’d decide that I didn’t want to take the sexy biker to bed or go out with Trudy and Sarah again or be a bad girl. Well, it was possible, I suppose, but it didn’t seem likely.

I slept off the rest of my hangover that afternoon and then turned in early that night. As I lay there in bed, naked and touching myself, I suddenly had a thought. I stopped lazily stroking my bare mound and there it was. I felt different. I was still me but I was...I don’t know, more me. Maybe the real me was finally showing. Whatever it was, it felt good. Maybe a bit frightening but good nevertheless. I fell asleep with that thought swimming in my head.

>>O<<

“Yes!” I shouted a bit too loudly and pumped my fist as I walked out of the courthouse. Judge Sullivan dismissed the case against Jack without any trouble. The officer didn’t show up and the prosecutor couldn’t show any probable cause for the search that would satisfy the judge. Jack’s appearance just wasn’t grounds for a search of his bike and Judge Sullivan even scolded the prosecutor for wasting her time with such a case.

I knew I’d win. The prosecutors often pressed sketchy charges hoping for a plea deal so when they ran for Mayor or Governor they could show voters how tough on crime they supposedly were. They called it looking out for the innocent citizens. I called it harassing them. So did the judge, apparently. That’s why I loved the law. It could be used to harass people but in most cases it worked the way it should. Good thing to. Now, Jack wasn’t a client anymore and he wasn’t going to have to plea out or go to trial. He was all mine.

If he’d have me, that is. For all I knew, he had already found another girl on Saturday night. Maybe I had hurt him or he just wrote me off. Maybe I was already too late. I guess I was going to find out. I walked back to the office, it was only a few blocks from the new courthouse, and dug Jack’s file out of my briefcase. I promised I’d call him and let him know what happened. I found his number and dialed.

“Yeah?” he answered and my stomach was full of those damned butterflies again.

“Jack? This is Brandy,” I replied.

“Oh. So what happened,” he asked. I didn’t let the fact he didn’t ask me how I was or anything bother me. His freedom was potentially in the balance after all.

“The judge dismissed the case. No probable cause. Congratulations,” I replied. No need to drag something like that out, I figured.

“Fantastic. Well, thanks. Later,” he said but I jumped in before he could hang up.

“Jack, I want to talk to you about Saturday morning,” I said. He exhaled as if I was bothering him.

“Get it off your chest,” he replied. I took a deep breath before I began to tell him what I’d been rehearsing since Sunday.

“I want to apologize for what I said. I don’t know if I hurt you or what but I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve that. It was just...well, I was scared I guess,” I said.

“So, I scare you?” he asked.

“No! Well, yes. Honestly, you did. I just wasn’t used to being with a guy like you and I did things I usually wouldn’t. Look, I enjoyed it. I just didn’t know how to deal with my feelings. Then you talked about what you did and I freaked out and made assumptions. I’m sorry,” I explained.

“I appreciate that. Is that it?” he replied. Maybe I didn’t hurt him. Maybe I was just a one night stand and he really didn’t care. But I swallowed my pride and tried not to think that way. Even if he didn’t want to see me again, I wanted to see him. I wanted to give him another chance, or maybe I wanted him to give me another chance.

“No, I...I want to see you again, Jack. If you want, that is,” I told him but he didn’t reply right away. There was nothing but just silence for a moment. Then Jack finally spoke.

“Yeah, you sure about that?” he asked. I didn’t expect that question. Was I sure? Did I know what I was getting into with Jack? He might not have been a criminal but he wasn’t what most people would call an upstanding citizen. He dove into dumpsters but he did it to make a living, an honest living. He had a passion that he pursued. He was a bit rough around the edges, OK a lot rough, but he was a good guy, wasn’t he?

I guess I didn’t really know. I was pining after a guy I’d met less that week ago and spent one night with. Was I really sure I wanted to start something with this guy? Yeah, I was. I barely knew him but I knew how he made me feel. Maybe he and I wouldn’t last more than one more night. That was fine but I needed to try. I needed to know. I needed a redo with Jack.

“Yeah, I’m sure. Can I see you again?” I asked him.

“Hogs and Heifers, Saturday night, be there,” he said and the line went dead. I hung up and for a moment, I was confused by his reaction. Maybe it was a test of sorts. Maybe he didn’t believe I’d really show or that I’d show up and decide I was wrong. Well, if Jack Anker was testing me that was a test I was going to pass. I had nothing to prove to Jack but I did have something to prove to myself. I was going to find out once and for all if my new adventuresome side was here to stay or not.

>>O<<

I called Trudy the next day and asked if she’d help me out. I needed to wear something that would catch Jack’s attention and show him I was serious. “Sorry, Brandy. I can’t get out of it,” she assured me. She had a family thing on Saturday and couldn’t go shopping with me. It’s not like she was some expert in biker fashion but she couldn’t know any less than I did.

“Damn, I guess I’ll go alone,” I told her. I could have called another friend but I wasn’t prepared to explain my sudden need for leather and fishnet and go through all that.

“Call Sarah. She’s more a of a mall diva than me anyway,” Trudy suggested.

“Yeah?” I asked. Take a crossdresser shopping? That seemed a bit strange but then again life was strange suddenly. Besides, she did look pretty fantastic.

“She’s the most girly-girl I know. You should see her closet. If you need to impress this guy, she’ll help,” Trudy told me. What the hell?

“OK, I’ll give her a try,” I said.

“No, worries, she’s right here,” Trudy said. OK, that was weird.

“Hey, Brandy, what’s up?” Sarah asked after Trudy handed her the phone. I told her what I needed and she was eager to help out. We set up a time and place to meet Saturday morning.

“Thanks,” I told her before I hung up.

“We’re going to have a ball, girl,” Sarah said and hung up. I wondered why she was at Trudy’s house. I decided it was none of my business but I couldn’t help but let my mind consider the possibilities. I’m sure it was totally innocent, right? There weren’t like doing it or anything. Why was the idea so arousing though?

The rest of the week went fast. I made a dent in the office mess but it would take me many more days to get the place straightened up completely, not to mention a storage unit to put some of it in. I met with some clients, both new ones and some Vic had been representing for a long time. I knew some of them weren’t exactly innocent but Vic kept them out of prison, most of the time. None of them hurt anyone. Even Vic wouldn’t represent violent people if he knew they were guilty.

Saturday, arrived and I woke up with the small flock of butterflies that had been breeding since Tuesday suddenly throwing a rave in my stomach. It was a pleasant feeling for the most part, a dull eagerness to see where things would go later with Jack. After getting ready, I met Sarah at the bagel shop near the Fashion Show Mall on the Strip. I felt a bit underdressed.

I’d worn a comfortable pair of leggings and a blouse, assuming I’d be in and out of dressing rooms and outfits all day. Sarah was in a black strapless dress with a pleated skirt and a boned top. Her blonde wig had been replaced with a jet black pageboy wig and her legs were incased in expensive black pantyhose. Black ankle boots with four-inch heels topped off her outfit.

“Uh, is that what you always wear shopping?” I asked as we met. She hugged me before we went to the counter to order.

“I only get to spend the weekends as Sarah. I don’t waste my time with frumpy clothes,” she said. I looked at my outfit and back at Sarah. “Oh, don’t feel bad. I dress comfortably as a man but I get my fill of drab sweats and t-shirts on weekdays. On the weekends, it’s Sarah’s time and she’s a diva,” Sarah told me and we giggled together. The woman in front of us in line looked back over her shoulder and smiled pleasantly but it was clear Sarah was freaking her out.

“Yes, honey, I’m a man,” Sarah told her and the woman frowned and turned around again. I giggled at that and Sarah smiled. We ordered bagels and coffee, ate while Sarah quizzed me about what exactly I was looking for and then we went to the mall. She assured me she had the perfect outfit in mind after I filled in the details, including Jack’s penchant for stockings as well as my own.

Fredrick’s was our first stop. Even five years ago, I couldn’t find anything in places like that but anymore it seemed they had embraced us bigger girls. Sarah complained they still didn’t always accommodate the taller girl, by which she meant crossdressers. We found what she was looking for, lace top black stockings and a faux leather garter belt.

“God, I wish I could wear these out,” she told me.

“Why can’t you?” I wondered. Sarah glanced down towards her crotch. “Oh, yeah,” I replied.

“Mrs. Winky needs more than some flimsy panties to stay out of site. Don’t worry, I indulge my love of stockings in the bedroom,” she said and winked at me. I blushed despite myself and she laughed at me. “You’re so cute, Brandy,” she told me before we checked out. That’s all we needed from a lingerie shop. Sarah convinced me that panties would only get in the way if my plan was to seduce the sexy biker and that after the wet t-shirt contest she was sure that putting my breasts in a bra was sacrilege.

We were done by one and I had what I was sure Jack would love in the bags I carried to the place we choose for lunch. I was excited to try it all on at once and even more excited to show it to Jack. “God, I hope this is the right thing to do,” I said after we ordered.

“Why?” Sarah asked. She knew me as the crazy girl who liked showing her tits. She didn’t really know I wasn’t really like that normally.

“I’d never done anything like that wet t-shirt contest or smoking pot or screwing a guy I hardly know,” I confessed. Sarah looked at me funny.

“I know. Trudy told me. I used to be like you until I met Trudy. I was a closet crossdresser. I longed to go out and be the real me but I was so scared of what everyone would say, of getting caught or outed in public or someone thinking I was gay. When Trudy caught me dressed up, I thought I would die. But she was so cool about it. She suggested I should go out if that’s what I wanted. Long story short, she really helped me to live without fear, without worry,” Sarah told me.

“She kind of said the same to me. She’s always been fearless, you know. Or she acts that way,” I replied.

“She’s not acting. Neither am I anymore. I just don’t give a crap and I’m so happy. I thought doing this would be a constant battle with my feelings and fears but it’s not. I’m so not afraid anymore. If people want to think I’m gay or a sissy or whatever...,” she said and paused for effect, “They’d be right!” Sarah winked at me and we both laughed but I knew just what she meant. She was who she was and she could either deny it or embrace it. I was in the same boat, I suppose.

“Are you gay?” I asked curiously.

“I like guys when I’m Sarah. I’d be lying if I told you I haven’t blown a guy or twelve in a parking lot at a gay bar dressed up like this. Am I gay? It’s just a label. I’m just me and if dressing like a girl and sucking the occasional guy off makes be gay, so be it. Look, Brandy, you need to be who you are. If you’re a bad girl, biker bitch deep inside, you’ll know. Embrace it. Be fearless, girl. Go get that man, be all you can be and all that shit,” she told me. I laughed as the waitress brought our sandwiches. Fearless, I liked that. We ate changing the conversation to lighter fare then paid and left. I had another appointment that afternoon at the salon so I said my goodbyes to Sarah and thanked her.

“You’re so welcome. I hope it works out with the biker. If not, give him my number,” she said and winked at me.

“We need to do this again,” I told her. She agreed and hugged me.

“Maybe, I’ll have you and that biker over to the house. Trudy too,” she offered.

“I’d like that. I don’t know about Jack, but maybe,” I told her. She gave me that look as if she knew what I meant. Jack might be fine with hanging out with a crossdresser but he probably wouldn’t be. Then again, who knew?

“We’ll see. Call me and let me know how it goes, OK,” Sarah said. I promised and we hugged again then went our separate ways. I wasn’t sure but I think Sarah and I were becoming friends. I kind of liked that. She was sweet and though I knew she was a man under all those clothes, makeup and wigs, I didn’t care. I considered her as a woman, I’d never seen her as anything else, and I liked her no matter what.

After my trip to the salon, I went home to relax before I headed out to meet Jack. Nerves gave way to anticipation. I could feel it in my core, the desire to be his again, feel him inside of me, to submit to him. I remembered his chiseled body covered in ink and his broad, hard shaft, that scruffy but sexy beard, the way he called me doll and his piercing gray eyes. Whoa, girl! Settle down.