Unexpected Angel (2 page)

Rather than fight for a parking spot on the narrow street in front of Dragonfly Arts, Holly pulls into a gravel lot behind a two-story building in the artsy part of Madison. It is the type of neighborhood that while awesome in the light of day, at night, it is slightly scary. I stick close to my friend, trying to keep from breaking my ankle as I teeter across the rocks in my heels.

“
Lila, get your ass over here,” Holly shouts as we walk in the back door. Yes, my best friend is there often enough she doesn’t have to worry about the ‘Employees Only’ sign on the back door. “Got shit to do, girl,” she says impatiently.

A petite
woman wearing a white tank top to display the tattoos flowing down both arms runs through the shop to greet us. I can’t help but stare at her, wishing I could pull off the retro vibe she does. “Hey, who's your friend?” The way she looks at me, I can tell she is judging me. I know I do it to people who are pierced and inked, but I promise myself I’m not going to do it anymore now that I know how uncomfortable it feels.

“Brought you some virgin skin tonight, bitch. You can thank me later.” I
look at Holly, trying to figure out how it is that our friendship has lasted over twenty years. We are like black and white, night and day. I rarely curse, dress conservatively, listen to country music (always at “tolerable” levels), and believe in treating everyone with respect. Holly cusses like a sailor, pushes the envelope on how little fabric she can wear without getting an indecent exposure ticket, believes that loud is the only way to listen to music (all of which has heavy drums, loud guitars and screaming rather than singing), and is sitting here calling the person she wants a favor from a bitch.

Lila
rubs her hands together as if this is truly some sort of treat for her. “Don't worry, sugar. I'll take good care of you. But you'd better be careful. Holly gets her claws in you, you'll wind up lookin' like me.” She leads me back to her booth and pulls out a selection of piercing studs. Unlike the tattoo stations, a floor length black curtain surrounds her area. In my mind, I know it’s probably for when she’s doing more delicate piercings, but the separation from the rest of the business is still a little unnerving.

“So, what are you going for today? You'll be able to change it out later, but choose wisely because this one has to stay in until that shit heals.”
Lila doesn’t look at me as she speaks. She’s busy pulling out her tools and washing her hands. Finally, she puts on a pair of black latex gloves, thicker and more ominous than any I’ve seen before.

I pick
up a small diamond stud that is slightly larger than what I'd envisioned and hand it to her. “Will this hurt?” I ask meekly. I already feel the courage seeping out of my pores.

“Honey, this is one of the easiest piercings we do. But yeah, it's not a pain-free process. I'm about to punch a hole in your
damn body where there isn't a hole right now.” Holly and Lila roll their eyes and laugh at my naiveté.

“Okay, let's just do it. Quick.” I
lean back in the chair like she told me and close my eyes. I don’t want to see what Lila is doing, don’t want to know when she is coming at me.

The drive from Dragonfly Arts to Marquee is only a few miles, but it is almost long enough for me to get over the shock of my newly modified appearance. “I can't believe I did it,” I squeal, staring at myself in the dimly lit visor mirror.

“Yeah, you did it. I'm proud of you,”
Holly states. Looking at the expression on her face, I know she isn’t being sarcastic for once in her life. “Now, stop playing with it or it'll get infected. And you'll go cross-eyed if you keep trying to look down your nose to see it.”

We both burst out in a fit of giggles. Maybe
Holly was right, maybe this night is exactly what I need to move on to the next stage in my life.

(Tasha)

“I wouldn't do that if I were you.” The silky baritone warning comes from somewhere in the shadows. Standing alone in line while Holly finds a parking spot, something deep within me knows the words are for me.

“Excuse me?” I
look around to see who it is I’m talking to, but everyone in my line of sight appears to be engaged in other conversations.

He
rounds the side of the building to stand next to me. As he comes into the light, I can’t help but notice how out of place he looks compared to the rest of the crowd outside the club. My eyes travel the length of his body, taking in his raw sexuality. His shaved head is a look I don’t think is attractive on most people, but it works for him. He’s wearing a black button-down shirt that almost looks like it is custom tailored to follow the lines of his body from his broad shoulders down to his narrow waist. The rolled up sleeves highlight dark tattoos that I can’t quite make out in the dim light. The faded blue jeans define and accentuate his hips and obviously well-built thighs. The look is finished off with a pair of black leather boots with a buckle on the side. He’s the opposite of anything I’ve been attracted to in the past, but I’ll be damned if my body doesn’t long to get to know him.

“Sweetie, tonight's not the night to come to a place like this for the first time. And to do it alone,” he
sucks in a deep breath. “Well, that's just asking for trouble.”

“Who says
this is my first time?” I ask, slightly offended that this stranger feels the need to warn me off as if I am incapable of protecting myself.

He steps closer, almost too close for comfort seeing as I have no clue
who this devastatingly sexy man is. “Honey, with your blue jeans, fuck-me red boots and a corset so white you'll be glowing all night, you look like a modern day Betsy fucking Ross. Let's just say there's little about your outfit that leads me to believe you've experienced what you're about to see. And the way you're lookin' around, you're not with anyone.”

He
takes one more step toward me, now firmly inside my personal bubble. When he speaks, his breath smells like a combination of cigarettes and one of those super-concentrated cinnamon mints. Surprisingly, it’s a bit of a turn-on for me. Then again, when you haven't had sex in over a year, the wind blowing just right is a turn on.

“So, I'll tell you again
. You might wanna rethink what you're about to do. Unless, of course, you’re into that shit. And if that's the case, I'll be sure to find you in about an hour.” The stranger places two fingers against his mouth and then to my cheek before winking and turning to walk away.
So. Freaking. Hot.
And a little disturbing at the same time. I straighten my body, hoping he didn’t catch the way my knees buckled slightly at the simple gesture.

Before I
can ask his name, the stranger disappears into the crowd, bypassing the line waiting to get inside. I wonder what he meant when he said I'd be glowing all night. Or about experiencing what I was about to see. Our brief conversation replays in my mind while I wait for Holly. It is, without a doubt, one of the most bizarre encounters in my life.

About three seconds before I
lose my cool, Holly appears from the same side of the building as where the stranger had been. “Sorry, babe. Had to park down the street. It's going to be a
great
fucking night!” She is bouncing around on her studded black heels and I’m not sure if it’s the beginning of an adrenaline rush, or to combat the cold October air.

“So, uh.
..what exactly is this?” I ask, conflicted between wanting to prepare myself and fearing her response.

“Honey,
this
is freedom. You need to promise me you'll have an open mind, okay?” Between the stranger's warning and Holly pleading with me to have an open mind, being scared to death wins out.

“Um...” We shuffle
along the sidewalk, with only four people separating us from the bouncer. I am at a loss for words. The only thing I know for certain is I didn’t want to ask for more details. As terrified as I am to find out what is happening on the other side of the heavy wooden door, curiosity is the only thing propelling my feet forward.

Holly
wraps an arm around my waist and places her head on my shoulder. I know this Holly. This is my friend who is going to push me outside of my comfort zone and wants me to go along with her hair-brained scheme. “Have I ever done anything that's put you in danger?”

“Well, no.” It’s
true. Holly might be into some crazy stuff, but she has never once made me do anything that would get me hurt. There were a few times I was certain the cops were going to come but we managed to get out of wherever we were before anything happened. It’s like Holly has a sixth sense for when parties begin to head south and she leaves.

“And
do you wind up having fun every time I push you to try something new?” She bats her eyelashes at me and I have to laugh.

“Yeah, I suppose,” I concede, unenthusiastically. I’m not
exactly content living my sheltered life, but the ‘fun Holly’ keeps pushing me to try new things, and that is just something I have always tolerated for her sake, whether I enjoyed it or not.

“Okay,
the rules. First, keep an open mind. Second, don't take drinks from strangers. Third, don't set your drink down unless you're done with it. And last, prepare to have your world rocked.” We move forward once again, now two from the front of the line.

The lights blinking from the dance floor illuminate the dark hallway as we walk from the entrance into the club. An odd tension fills the air, and the darkness nearly suffocating as my eyes adjust to the low light.

“Remember what I told you,”
Holly shouts so I can hear her over the obscenely loud music. “If we get separated, I'll meet you back out here. Just do me a favor; stay with me.”

Holly
's repeated warnings as we turn the corner into the main club are more than freaking me out. It appears that I am one of the only people in the club not dressed head to toe in black or some equally dark color. I am also one of few without a stitch of leather on my body, other than the borrowed boots. Beyond that, it doesn’t seem much different from any other club we’ve been to, although it has been five years since I’ve been to a club at all.

“We need to find the girls,”
Holly yells, grabbing my wrist in her hand before attempting to weave through the crowd. “I told them to meet us in the back lounge because it will be easier to find them back there.”

The vibe in the room shifts
with every step we take toward the back of the building. Off to the left, the seating area has low couches arranged in small groups. Against the back wall sits Jenny, Aimee, and Bev, the remainder of the friends I still talk to on a semi-regular basis. All of them are closer to Holly than they are to me, often leaving me feeling like the proverbial fifth wheel.

“Holy shit,” Jenny exclaims
, jumping up from her seat. “I can't believe you actually got her ass out here!” She throws her arms around me in a tight hug. “Congrats, Tasha. You're a free agent now!” I look down at the table and notice that our friends have started drinking without us and seem to have one heck of a head start. “Oh. My. God. What is that?” Jenny squeezes my cheeks as she turns my head to the side, examining my newest accessory.

“A little
present to myself,” I profess. As lame as it sounds, I am proud of myself for doing something I know
he
would disapprove of. Never again will I allow a man to tell me what to do, who to talk to, or anything else. If and when I decide to give love another try, it will be on my terms.

“You bitch,” Jenny
screeches, slapping Holly’s arm playfully. “I can't believe you took her to Dragonfly and didn't tell us. That totally should have been a group trip.”

“Didn't know,”
Holly shrugs. “Shocked the shit outta me too.”

I look
around at the four friends sitting before me and realize just how much I time I wasted over the years. All of them are dressed to kill, fitting in with the crowd around them while my outfit screams 'poser'. “So, uh, you guys do this a lot?” I ask, my stomach sinking because I already know the answer.

“Every month,” Aimee chime
s in. She is practically bouncing on her seat and I wonder what I have been missing out on. All of them seem giddy with anticipation. “Don't worry; I think you'll love it once you get over the shock factor.” Everyone laughs while I look at my friends with a confused look on my face.

“Really, it's not
that
bad. You act like I've never been to a night club before.”

Seriously, what
is up with everyone? Do they think I’m so socially inept that a little bumping and grinding is going to bother me?

I
catch movement out of the corner of my eye and turn to see what it is. There, not more than twenty feet to my right, is a woman wearing next to nothing, strapped to some sort of wooden contraption. I jump when I hear a whip crack against her skin. “What the–?”

Bev
pulls me down to the couch before I fall over. I don’t know where I am, but this is so not what I signed up for. “What...what is that?” I ask once I am able to form words.

“That,”
Bev says, pointing to the back room, “Is the playroom. Don't worry; no one will make you go back there. Unless, of course, you want to.”

“NO!” I shout
. “Why on Earth would I choose to go back there?” I am appalled at the very thought and yet I can’t tear my eyes from the scene playing out in front of me.

The
nearly naked woman writhes around, but the moans coming from her sound aroused, not pained.
How can that be?

With every crack of the whip, I
feel myself flinch, unable to grasp the concept that this is okay to anyone.

Jenny
comes to sit on my other side, her hand resting on my knee. “Sweetie, you say that now, but admit it, you're curious.”

“No, I'm not.
Dang, what has gotten into all of you while I've been off living the married life?” My mouth says I’m not curious, but my eyes seem glued as the woman is now free from the restraints, and the dampness pooling between my legs tells a different story. It’s a life-altering moment when you realize that something you always thought of as taboo fascinates you.

Jenny's fingers
snap in front of my face. “Tasha, you in there?” She asks sarcastically. My head slowly turns to look at her. All four of my friends are having a good time at the expense of the sheltered girl in their midst. “Hey, it's okay to watch. Hell, they'll probably get off even harder knowing you're into it. Seriously, just chill the fuck out and relax.”

“Are you guys...” I look
to my friends and then toward to the back room. “Do you guys, you know...are you into that?”

They look at one another and laugh
. “Uh, yeah. Me and Bev,” Jenny starts to explain. “We look forward to our monthly spankings over there.” She points to another wooden contraption at the other end of the back room. This one looks almost like a sawhorse with padding on top and padded rails part of the way down. “Aimee is all about the temperature and wax play, but mostly wax because she's not a fan of fire. And Holly, she's not into receiving. You'll see her up there later tonight at the spanking horse dishing out some well-deserved punishment.”