Conquer (Control) (23 page)

“Yeah, we should be fine.  I have the normal guys working tonight, but added Jeremy and Mitch.  I don’t think we’ll have a problem.”

Logan eyed me before hesitantly responding.  “Okay, Daemon, but Mind Crime is known for drawing in a rough crowd.  We could end up having some issues in the pit once they get on stage.”

“Yeah.  I feel ya.  I’ll watch over the pit personally tonight.  Last thing I need is another fight breaking out.  Mitch was out for two weeks after the last one.”

I waved to Logan as I moved through the crowd to take my normal position on the back speaker of the pit.  Logan was always one to worry, the favorite bartender of most customers, the guy really did care about the welfare and safety of our guests.  He’d been working for me for several years now and I was considering boosting him up to management.  Truth was, the only thing that man had to worry about was slinging beer, but he was always the first to watch out for any other issues that could occur at the club.

Climbing over the perimeter railing, I jumped down on top of the speaker at the back of the pit.  A few other club goers had already taken up residence on the speakers before me, but I didn’t mind.  I sat myself down, hanging my feet over the front edge.  Mind Crime would be coming on within the next 15 minutes and I knew the pit would get crazy once they were on stage.  My view from the speaker was sufficient so that I could watch over everything that was happening down below.   My eyes scanned over the hundred or so people that had started gathering toward the front of the stage, men in primarily black clothes and women in dresses so short and tight, it was like an advertisement for a free ride.

I was growing somewhat impatient and bored when my eyes locked on the longest pair of legs I think I have ever seen.   Even better was the knee-high shit kickers that wrapped themselves around what I imagined to be a decent set of stems.  My eyes traveled up to discover a plain black tank top and…fuck…a face that immediately had my pants tightening in response.  A beautiful blond came down the stairs into the pit, taking two steps at a time as she made her way down.  I looked around at the rough and rowdy crowd that occupied the pit and I wondered if this chick was lost or looking for her boyfriend.  She was tiny, I mean, tall, but tiny.   Long and lean and dressed for comfort rather than for attention.  I couldn’t peel my eyes from her.  What the hell was she doing down here by herself?  Guess, it didn’t really matter, I planned on making sure she didn’t leave here by herself. 

I hadn’t taken home a girl in over a month.  It was always the same thing.  Emotionless sex that led to the awkward moment where I told them they needed to get home and ‘no’ I won’t be calling.  Most of the time, the women around here didn’t mind the quick night, but there were some that thought a one night stand could turn into something more.   I haven’t been interested in dealing with it lately, but shit…in walks this chick and suddenly I need a book to hold in front of me.

She looked at the speakers for a second before making her way towards me.  I looked away, attempting to appear as if I wasn’t mentally undressing her in my head.  When I looked back down, I noticed she had taken up a spot directly in front of me, just far enough away so as not to get kicked in the temple.  I chuckled.  Smart girl.

I kept scanning over the crowd, noticing it was becoming a hell of a lot rougher as it got closer to start time.  My eyes kept glancing down to check on blondie.  She looked pretty content standing by her lonesome, knocking back the cold one in her hand.   Just as the band started coming on stage I saw a large son of a bitch take a short cut over the top railing, jumping down into the pit.  The asshole almost landed on top of her and I wanted to grab her and pull her up with me where it was safe.  I was growing nervous as shit as I watched the crowd swell, pushing out into the back portion of the pit.  Blondie took a few steps back to separate herself from the crowd, looking over her shoulder once to make sure she wasn’t in direct line of any swinging feet.

“Hey everybody, how are you all doing tonight?!”  Mind Crime’s singer spoke into the mic, his voice was grating to me, but everybody else seemed to enjoy it.  He took a minute allowing the crowd to quiet down before shoving his face back in front of the mic to say, “For those of you who love us, we’re glad you are here tonight.  For those of you who don’t know us, we’re Mind Crime and I hope you like what you’re about to hear.”

The guitars started in and I noticed that the ever growing crowd in the pit was starting to move against each other.  As the singer came in to add the unintelligible words, those idiots were slamming in to each other, forcing strays out at the sidelines, only to envelope them back within the mass as it shifted in beat with the music.  I looked down at blondie and noticed that her head was moving back and forth, taking in the ever roughening crowd as it surged forward, then back again.  When bodies started slamming against her, she shoved back, not doing much damage in the process, but certainly keeping herself from being dragged into the middle of that mess.  The tempo of the song increased, causing the movement of the crowd to accelerate further.  I watched as she pushed out with her arms and it appeared as if she was starting to panic.  I looked at the crowd around her and noticed there was no way she was able to get around the mess that was quickly forming.  When her actions became frantic as she dodged a few elbows and knees, I’d had enough.

She was being forced back against the speaker and I took the opportunity to reach down and wrap my arms around her waist.  I immediately pulled her up, depositing her on the speaker, before shoving my arm in front of her to keep her from falling forward.  She steadied herself and then turned her head to look at me from over her shoulder.  Her eyes widened when she looked at me, and I sat there stunned as her eyes slowly traversed my body.  It was obvious this girl was beautiful when looking at her from a distance, but close up?  Fuck, this girl was a knock out.  My pants tightened again and I made up my mind that her head would be gracing my pillow this evening.  Shit.  I might actually call her the next day.

She kept looking at me, but didn’t say anything.  I couldn’t take the silence any longer, so I leaned forward to start the conversation.  As I moved closer in to her, the scent of her perfume hit me.  It was a musk scent, possibly sandalwood.  Fuck.   She was different, alright.  Most girls like to smell like flowers, fruit or food.  But not this one.  I was definitely intrigued.

“Sorry to manhandle you without permission, but you looked like you could use some help down there.”  A blush spread over her cheeks as I spoke to her and I decided to employ my full smile to reel this one in.

Her eyes looked over me one more time before she said, “Uh, yeah, thanks for that.  It normally doesn’t get that bad down there and I wasn’t expecting to get trapped.”  I smiled brighter, satisfied that I engaged her in conversation.  I should have her number by the end of the show.  When she turned back, leaving me with a view of the back of her head, my smile faltered. 

What the fuck?!

I needed to get this girl talking if I wanted to make sure I’d be buried deep inside within the next couple of hours. I leaned forward to speak in her ear, my lips brushing over the outer rim.  “No problem, beautiful, I’m always happy to assist a fair damsel in her time of distress.”

Her head shot back around.  Bingo.  I had my eyes trained on her pouty, full lips as she said, “Please don’t say that.”

My confusion must have been apparent.  Why was this girl not plastered to me already?  I couldn’t keep other women’s hands off me on the nights I bounced, but this one didn’t seem to want anything to do with me.  “What?”

Her eyes narrowed and a look of annoyance played over her features.  “Don’t call me a damsel in distress.  It’s degrading and I don’t appreciate being classified by use of a demeaning stereotype.”  After saying that, she once again turned back to look at the stage.

Well…damn.  I was just put in my place.  I have no idea why I suddenly felt an almost overwhelming desire to throw her ass down and teach her that I would call her anything I damn well pleased.  The only words coming from her lips then would be my name as she was naked and writhing underneath me.  I was at a loss as to whether I should keep trying to talk to her.  It was apparent she wasn’t interested, only increasing my interest in her.  I noticed that her long hair flowed gracefully down her back, the ends damn near brushing up against her hips.   She appeared thoroughly engrossed in the music as I sat back feeling defeated.   I decided to leave it alone, but I couldn’t stop paying attention to her.  My hands itched to reach up into that thick mane of hers, gripping it and pulling her face to mine.  I suddenly felt like a fucking caveman and I made an effort to shake myself from this obsession I was developing for her.

The band eventually finished their set, and I realized I’d memorized every small detail of her back, her hair, those hips that moved in beat with the music.   I had to separate myself from her…fast.  I jumped down, happy to escape what I knew would end up becoming a headache later on.  The last thing I needed was a relationship and this girl was obviously not the best choice for a cheap thrill.

I should have walked away as soon as my feet met the floor, but I couldn’t help but look back up at her.  Her butt was scooted all the way to the edge of the speaker, but she appeared hesitant to jump down.  Her head swung left and right, most likely looking for a means to climb.  I smiled up at her when I realized the little spit-fire was stuck.

She noticed me staring up at her, her face instantly contorting into a scowl.  I don’t know why, but she was even more appealing when she was mad. I reached up to assist, deciding to stir the pot a little more. Just because I most likely wouldn’t be taking her home, it didn’t mean I couldn’t have some fun pissing her off.   “From where I’m standing, ‘damsel in distress’ might be an adequate category for you.  This is the second time I’ve had to come to your rescue in the last hour.”

That did it.  Her face took on a deep shade of pink as her blue eyes glared down at me.  It was amusing, to say the least.  She reached out and I thought she was going to accept my help, but when she slapped my hand away, I couldn’t help but chuckle. 

“No thanks on that rescue attempt.  I can get down perfectly fine by myself.  Just step back so I don’t land on top of you.”   

I laughed again at the mental imagery that statement created in my head.  I wouldn’t mind if this girl landed on me or under me, just as long as she was touching me.  “Oh, the threat of you on top of me is supposed to make me move? Because I can promise you, Damsel, I’m not feeling real motivated to budge even an inch.”

It was obvious she hated the term ‘Damsel’ just making me want to use it more and more.  I had no idea why aggravating this chick was so amusing, but I couldn’t stop.

“I’ll tell you this one more time, Do. Not. Call. Me. Damsel.” 

I bit my tongue to keep from calling her that again.  Stepping back I held my hands out to my sides signaling my resignation.  It was going to be fun watching her find her way down.  She turned her body, I guess having decided to lower herself down the side.  When she dropped over, the bottom hem of her shirt crept up, revealing two small indentations on her lower back.  She appeared stuck and I couldn’t peel my eyes off the heart shaped ass swinging directly in front of my face.

Fuck.  I wanted to leave it alone, but I couldn’t resist egging her on.  “This is a delightful view.  I almost wish I had a camera.  Are you sure I can’t help?”

Her head turned to shoot me a nasty glare over her shoulder, before she released the speaker and dropped the last foot to the ground.  My eyes were glued to that perfect ass, but I forced myself to look up, not wanting to appear as crude as I was.  Her hair had fallen over her right shoulder while she was climbing down and I noticed a tattoo on the back of her left.

Holy…fuck.

There is no fucking way.

I recognized the tattoo.  It was a dragonfly necklace identical to the one given to me so many years before.  I wore that fucking necklace for years, desperate to return to a friend who did nothing but show me what it meant to be loved.  It was a necklace that represented a dream, a fantasy that I feared would never be realized. 

There had to be some other explanation.  She couldn’t be who I thought she was.

Without even thinking about it, I grabbed her shoulders and spun her around to face me.  The minute those eyes met mine, a jolt of recognition shot through me.  I remembered those eyes.

“What is your name?!”

When she didn’t respond I shook her, trying to speed her along in her response.  She just stared at me.

“Your name.  What is it?”

She jerked her shoulders out of my grasp and stepped back, still continuing to glare in my direction.  “Now why the hell would I want to tell YOU my name?!  Thanks for the earlier assistance but you can forget that you know me now.”

She attempted to walk away, but I couldn’t let her leave without finding out who she was. “That’s fine if you don’t want to tell me your name.  I’ll take your refusal as a clear indication that you wish for me to continue calling you Damsel.”

She spun back around.  Somehow I knew she couldn’t resist yelling at me for the use of my new favorite name for her.  “If you really think I’m dumb enough to fall for that crappy manipulation tactic, then I should be upfront and honest with you now.  You are clearly confused about the type of woman that I am.  I am not the type that needs rescuing and I am not the type that swoons over a beautiful face and a deep rumbly voice...”