King of Clubs

Roger nodded in agreement. "After we close up you can ride with me to my place, okay?"

"That will be great. Carla can take my car home." I moved to the door.

Roger stopped me by calling to my back. "We haven't discussed your fee."

I paused with my hand on the knob and turned to him. "I wouldn't feel right . . ."

"Of course I have to pay you for this," he stated firmly. "I cannot expect you to do this work for me on your spare time for free."

"Well . . . I suppose we could work something out," I hedged awkwardly. "Perhaps we can discuss compensation after I help you out."

"I see. You're thinking I might resent it if I pay you up front for a job and not see any results."

"Something like that."

Roger chuckled and held up his palm. "Have no fear. Your job is secure. The customers love you and the waitresses look up to you as some sort of counselor and advisor. Apparently I'm not the only one who regards you as the intellectual type."

I flushed slightly. "Really?"

Roger nodded his head soberly. "As I mentioned before, women have a tendency to talk."

I smiled happily. "I'll tell Carla you're giving me a ride to your place. After we close up, I'm yours for the night." I winced and added, "Sorry. That didn't come out right."

King laughed and gestured his hand for me to leave. "Get back to work!"

I caught my topless redheaded partner Carla out front bussing tables. The gal looked sensational in her candy red string thong and matching high heels. I tapped her on the shoulder and asked, "Got a minute?"

Carla loaded a tray with empty glasses and smiled brightly at me. "Sure! What's up?"

I glanced around to make sure nobody was listening, then leaned closer and whispered, "I'm going to go home with Roger tonight."

Carla raised one eyebrow in surprise. I always marveled at her when she did that. It made her look like Mister Spock on Star Trek. I half expected her to say, "Fascinating."

"Roger?" Carla stated unemotionally. "As in our boss Roger?"

"Yes. He just hired us for a case."

"What kind of case?"

"Someone is trying to scare him with threatening letters."

"Oh the poor dear! That's terrible!"

"He doesn't want anyone to know about this but you and me. The man feels kind of helpless and embarrassed by the whole ordeal."

"I understand. How can I help?"

"I don't need anything from you just yet. I'm just going to interview him to get information tonight."

"Okay."

"I'm riding home with him so you can take my car."

"Sure thing."

"Don't wait up for me in case it turns out to be an all-nighter."

Carla frowned. "I hate to go home to an empty house. It's no fun being all by my lonesome without you, Linda." She lightly caressed her fingers over my dark hair. "You know how much I like to cuddle after we come home from work."

"I promise I'll make it up to you."

"You better!" Carla gave me a smooch on the cheek and whispered softly into my ear, "Have fun with the boss."

I leaned back and gazed intently at the girl. "You are so beautiful," I murmured in reverent awe. I raised a hand and gently fondled her bare breast. "You know seeing you practically naked like this keeps me in a perpetual state of horniness."

Carla grinned seductively. "That was the general idea for me taking this job." She set the tray of empties on the table and took my wrist in her hand. "Come with me."

"Where are we going?"

"You and I are taking a break." Carla led me from the front room to the door marked Employees Only.

I giggled with glee. "What kind of break?"

"A nookie break," she explained. "Now is a perfect time. Janet is covering for you at the bar, there's a lull in service, and my lover is horny. I say we take advantage of that."

We stepped through the door to the private lounge in back where girls left their clothes. "I love it when you are so spontaneous!"

Carla turned to me and kissed me hungrily. I groped her bare butt cheeks with my palms. The topless ladies only wore skimpy thongs and high heel shoes. I once tried on her outfit in the privacy of our boudoir. It made me feel like I had a wedgie up the crack of my ass. Carla expelled her breath into my mouth and brought her hands between our bodies to grope my chest. "God, you make me so hot!"

I slipped my knee between her legs and rubbed her crotch with my thigh as my tongue tangled with hers. "You are always a hot woman." I kissed along her jaw and down her neck. "I want to show you just how hot you are." My lips moved over her chest to the pointed nipples of her breasts. "And how hot you make this woman."

"God, Linda," Carla rasped with lust. "You make my body feel like it's on fire."

"Oh yeah," I rasped, my breath hot on her bare flesh as I inched lower. "Your body is incredible." I lowered to squat on my haunches and pulled the front of her thong aside. "Let me see just how hot this lady is!"

Carla gasped with arousal and gripped my hair in her fingers, pulling my face tighter to her. "Oh God, yes!" she shuddered. "A quick nookie break was just what the doctor ordered!"

Chapter 2

I waited for Roger to turn everything off and close up the club. Carla and I would normally leave with everyone else at midnight when we shut down for the night. Being the last ones to leave felt kind of spooky. The Doll House was usually busy and exciting with lots of people and noise and energizing music. Seeing the place vacant with everyone gone and everything turned off gave me an eerie feeling, kind of like walking through a graveyard after dark. Good thing I had my burly boss beside me for backup. Not that I was scared at all, just uneasy and creeped out a little.

"The club sure seems different with everybody gone," I commented as Roger snapped off the lights behind the bar.

"Yeah. Kind of like being the last ones left to clean up a party after all the guests have departed."

"Sort of like that." I followed him to the back door. "Are you always the last one out?"

"Yep." Roger turned to me with a wry smile. "Are you thinking you need to escort me out every night for my protection until this thing is over?"

"No. Not unless you want me to." I patted my hand on my purse at my side. "I have a .38 with me if we need it."

My boss scowled at me. "You don't carry that gun with you everywhere, do you?"

"Not everywhere," I clarified as Roger secured the deadbolt in the back door. "Call it a carryover from when I was a police officer. I feel sort of naked without it." I glanced around at the dark parking lot. "With someone threatening you, it may come in handy." Roger escorted me to his big black suburban parked beneath one of the light poles in the back lot. The fellow opened the passenger door for me. Such a gentleman. I smiled and stepped inside. It was a big vehicle. I was used to cruising around in my tiny blue Honda Accord. This truck was like a tank compared to my ride. "I feel like I'm in a semi," I commented as my host slid behind the wheel.

Roger grinned and started the engine. "In case you haven't noticed, I'm a pretty big boy. I'd have one hell of a time getting in and out of a foreign compact."

"I see your point."

My boss steered us from the lot onto the street. "So how do you like working at the club?" he asked.

I casually shrugged a shoulder. "It's fun. You never know who you're going to meet each night or what some client is going to say or do."

"Better than being a cop?"

I glanced at my companion. "I was an investigator. I showed up on the scene after the crime was committed." I gave him a wry smile. "A lot of my customers were in no condition to talk."

"How so?"

"They were dead."

Roger nodded soberly to the windshield. "I see."

"Hopefully that won't happen in this case."

The man belied a small smile. "Hopefully." I glanced out the window at the passing streetlights. Roger continued, "So what made a gal like you become a private investigator?"

"Well, as you know, I worked for the police department for a while," I explained. "But when it became known that Carla and I were lovers we were politely asked to leave. The Chief wanted to avoid a public scandal. Not that Carla and I were ever caught swapping saliva at the department or anything. The mayor initiated a new moral behavior policy and wanted to present a proper image for the police force. We left quietly and I applied for my Private Investigator's license. Carla and I set up shop in our stand alone garage. I do most of the leg work and Carla does the research. She has a real head for surfing around the internet and takes care of most of the office responsibilities."

"Sounds like a nice partnership."

"It is."

The man pulled up into the driveway and switched off the engine. "For some reason I expected you to live in a huge mansion in the country," I commented casually.

"I've always believed that size doesn't matter."

"Strange talk coming from a man," I laughed, climbing out.

My boss led the way up the walk to the front door. He slipped the key in the lock and was about to open the door when I rested my hand on his arm. "Perhaps I should go in first," I suggested. "In case there's somebody hiding inside."

Roger gave a sardonic smile. "You don't think an old washed up football player can take care of himself?"

"This person has broken into your house once before." I removed the .38 revolver from my handbag. "We may be dealing with a highly emotional and more than likely mentally unstable individual. I don't want to take any chances."

I opened the door and stepped inside. I snapped on the light over the foyer. No crazed psychopaths skulking in the shadows. I didn't expect any to be, but I wanted Roger to feel confident that he made the right choice in hiring me. I turned back to him and held the door open. "Looks clear, boss."

The man grunted and followed me into the house. "I could use a drink. How about you?"

"Yes, please."

"Vodka and tonic?"

"Sounds good."

I checked out the rest of the house while Roger mixed us a cocktail. All was clear. I returned to the living room. "Nice place you have here," I said.

"Thanks. I like to call it home."

I accepted the glass and glanced around the living room. There was a brown leather couch and matching arm chair with a low glass topped coffee table before the white stone fireplace. I took a closer look at some of the trophies in a glass display case. There were numerous photographs on the wall of teammates and coaches and celebrities. I gestured my glass to the display. "Quite a collection you have."

Roger moved to my side and nodded soberly. "A shrine to days long past." He took a swig of his drink. "Ancient history."

I noticed that a number of photos had a tall blonde man in them. "Who is that?"

"Tom Bender. He was our quarterback." Roger looked at me. "Didn't you ever follow professional football?"

I shrugged with indifference. "Sorry. I'm not that much of a sports fan."

Roger took a drink. "Me and Bender. People used to call us the dynamic duo. Tom and I were unstoppable on the field. Give that guy the ball and he'd put it right into my hands every time. We went to two Super Bowls together. He was a really great ball player."

"You still keep in touch?"

The man sighed dolefully and walked over to the couch. "No, not really. When I quit the game, Tom got pretty upset. We said we were breaking up a perfect team, you know? He said that what we had was like Zen, like something magical. I believe he took my leaving the game much harder than I did."

I wandered over and sat on the couch beside him. "Is he still playing football?"

"Nope. Tom quit about a year or so after I left. I guess his heart wasn't in it anymore."

I kicked off my shoes and tucked my legs under my rear. "I hate to suggest this, but it could be Bender who's sending you those threatening letters."

My boss looked at me in surprise. "Who, Tom? Nah. He may have been a little freaky, but he and I were pals - best of buddies. He'd never want to hurt me."

"What do you mean by freaky?"

"Well, you know how superstitious quarterbacks can get. They have little rituals they do before a game for luck. They wear lucky socks or jewelry or something. One guy even totaled up the numbers of everyone's jersey before a game to see if it added up to a lucky number. You know; weird stuff like that."

"Was Tom Bender weird like that?"

"Not too weird. A bit eccentric, but not freaky crazy."

I nodded and sipped my drink. "That letter you showed me in your office had a distinct feminine quality to it. Was there any woman you jilted or dumped at some time, or led on in some manner? An old girlfriend, perhaps?"

The man frowned and shook his head. "I've never been romantically involved with anyone too seriously. No long-term relationships, if that's what you're getting at."

"Have you ever been on love?"

Roger looked at me with a curious expression. "That's a strange question."

"Merely trying to jar old memories loose."

"No. I've never been in love."

"How very sad."

"Don't feel sorry for me. I've had a few near misses in my time, but nothing worth being stalked over." He drained the rest of his drink and asked, "How about you?"

"What about me?"

"Have you ever been in love?"

I nodded and finished my drink. "Carla is my one and only true love."

Roger stood and accepted my empty glass. "I mean; have you ever been in love with a man?"

"Nope. My pendulum doesn't swing that way."

My host nodded soberly as he crossed to the bar to mix us a fresh drink. "So how does that work, exactly?" he asked casually.

"What? Between two women?"

"Yes."

"A lot of kissing and groping and fondling . . . that sort of thing. I imagine it's similar to how a man and a woman have sex, but since I've never personally been in that scenario, I have no point of reference to compare it to." He glanced at me. I caught the playful grin and mischievous twinkle in his eyes. "Stop right there, buster!" I warned. "I know what you're thinking."

"What was I thinking?"

"That you could be the one to show me what I've been missing."

"That was not what ran through my mind just now."

"Oh?"

Roger brought me a fresh drink. "I was imagining you and Carla together . . . doing what it is that you ladies do . . ."

I raised a hand to stop him. "Don't go there! God! Having my boss tell me he's having lewd fantasies about me is far worse."

"Sorry."

I took my glass and allowed a small smile. "I'd have thought a man like you would have seen plenty of porn videos of two ladies having sex."

Roger sat next to me and shrugged casually. "It's much more interesting when you know the participants personally."

"Naughty boy!"

We talked for over an hour about Roger's career and his glory days of professional football. We played tit for tat when I inquired about his love life. For every personal question I asked him Roger was allowed to ask a question of me. I tried to steer the conversation away from sex, not wanting to divulge too many details about my lesbian relationship, especially after my host told me he found it very intriguing. "So why open a gentleman's club?" I asked.

Roger laughed. "That's the funniest thing of all. One night I found myself talking with my buddy Tom Bender about my plans when I would retire. He said that I would never retire from the game. I said, 'Yeah, I will, and I'm going to be my own boss'. Tom gave me this curious look and said, 'So you think you're going to become a gentleman on us?' And I said, 'Hell yeah! I'm going to be a gentleman entrepreneur.' Damn if I didn't do it too! It still makes me laugh now and then. Roger King owning a gentleman's club. I think it's funny as hell."

"How many people know it's you who runs it?"

The man shrugged. "Not too many, I suppose. Banks, lawyers, some close friends. I rarely go out and chat with the customers. I don't want to ruin the mood. Guys come to the club to check out the ladies. They don't need some big dumb ex-pro baller putting a damper on their excitement."

I looked intently at him. "Is that why you rarely come out of your office? You don't want to steal the thunder from the girls?"

"That, and because when people meet me all they want to talk about is football. That life is behind me. I'm a bona fide businessman now."

I yawned and stretched my arms over my head. "It's late and I'm bushed. Besides, I don't think our friend is going to show tonight."

"Let me show you to the bedroom."

"What?"

"You're staying the night. You said you wanted to protect me. How do we know my threatener isn't waiting in the shadows for you to leave?"

I nodded in agreement. "You have a point. Plus I'm too tired to argue." I rose to my feet. "Do you have some pajamas I can wear?"

Roger gave me a disparaging glance. "Do I look like the kind of man who wears pajamas?"

I balled my fists on my hips and glared at him. "You don't seriously think I'm going to sleep in the buff in a strange man's bed, do you?"

"I thought men didn't turn you on."

"It's this lady's body turning you on that concerns me."

"I have an old flannel shirt you can wear."

"That will do nicely."

"It's in the wooden dresser, second drawer. You can sleep in the bedroom and I'll stay out here on the couch."

I nodded in acceptance. "I'll leave the door open so I can hear if anyone tries to break in."

"Fair enough."

I moved to him. "Sorry if I got a little huffy just then. I'm a tad apprehensive about sleeping alone in a man's house with a lunatic lurking outside."

"No problem."

"Plus the fact you are twice my size and I would have a heck of a time fending you off should you become overcome with desire for this woman's sensuous body, regardless if I wasn't your type."

Roger returned a wry smile. "You forget you have a revolver in your handbag."

I chuckled. "Apparently you didn't forget it." I offered him my hand to shake. "Good night, boss."

Roger gave a small smile of amusement as he shook my hand. "Good night, Miss Pearl."

Chapter 3

I cracked my eyes to the bright daylight streaming into the room through the open bedroom window. It was morning. I stretched lazily and realized I was alone and not in my own bed. I remembered I was in Roger King's home and had stayed overnight. I needed to find my phone and send a text message to Carla letting her know I was all right. She would be probably concerned when I hadn't come home last night. However, first things first; coffee.

I quietly slid out of bed and padded barefoot to the kitchen wearing Roger's loose and warm flannel shirt. The man was right - it was comfortable. I might just have to borrow it for a while as a nightgown. I foraged through the cupboards for the coffee fixin's, filled the coffeemaker with water and grounds and set it to brew. I went to the bathroom to wash up while it was perking. By the time I returned it was done. I found a mug in one of the cupboards and poured myself a cup.

I crossed to the sliding glass door beyond the small kitchen area. It had a view looking out from the back of the house. Roger's backyard had a concrete slab patio with a set of four wrought iron chairs and a round glass top table with a hole in the middle for an umbrella. The grass yard gradually sloped down and away from the house to a dirt road that ran between his house and the residence across the way. The road was merely two worn ruts in the grass leading to a water tower about four houses down. I stepped outside and stood with my bare feet on the cool cement patio, sipping my coffee and enjoying the quiet and serenity of the cool crisp morning.

Something off to the side caught my attention. There was a white speck in the grass under one of the back windows. The green plush lawn looked immaculate except for this little bit of litter. I tiptoed gingerly on the wet grass in my bare feet over to the debris.