A/N: I DO NOT own Smokin' Aces. This is a one-shot. Just a little thought that's been on my mind for a few days now.
Lester Part I.
"You better not get drunk again tonight. I'm not dragging your asses back home again." Jeeves growled as they pulled up in front of the trashy bar. As they all piled out of the jet black 1973 Grand Torino, trading in the scent of sweat for the mixture of booze and vomit.
Lester ignored him, wiping her cocaine-dusted hands on his black leather pants before walking forward, making his way for the entrance to the bar. Jeeves' heavy footsteps followed echoed against the pavement and Darwin howled before running in front of him.
This would be their first time out in days. After finishing a job off in upstate New York of the Sing-Sing prison warden's wife, they hid out for a few days. The bulls were searching high and low, looking in every nook and cranny. Figured, considering the nature they left her body in.
They did everything to her. Raped her, hacked her up, defecated on her remains, everything imaginable. Naturally when the warden came home to find his bedroom smelling like a shit factory and his wife's body bloody and exposed, he called a nationwide manhunt, forcing the three brothers to go into hiding.
Lester followed Darwin in, not bothering to hold the door open for his other brother.
As they walked inside Lester grinned. This was his kind of bar. Confederate flags. Fat drunken rednecks. Crack whores.
Something caught his eye. A babe, in all definition of the word walking towards them. He stopped and stared, entranced. There was something about her.
It wasn't the fact that she was a black chick in a bar full of the cult of General Lee. Or that her rack was so huge that it threatened to break the straps of her tank top. No it was something else.
She took a pair of sunglasses from the top of her head before sliding them down over her green eyes and briefly looking at Lester and brushing past him. He turned, watching after her as she exited the bar before running his hands over his muscular chest, completely exposed from his lack of shirt. He wore nothing but leather pants along with black suspenders, Doc Martens, and his gun holster.
He turned for a minute to look for his brothers. Darwin was screaming and bashing some guys head in against the wall, the norm. The bartender had learned not to say anything. Jeeves was sitting there watching him, pretending it wasn't happening as he sipped a straight bottle of tequila.
As he turned towards the door of the smoky bar his heart jumped as he saw her, opening the door and disappearing into the early evening. He rushed out behind her. It took a lot for a girl like her to come in here. She had balls. He liked that. She also had a body that he wanted to destroy. He really liked that.
He threw open the door to find her, sitting atop a vintage dark purple 1976 Camaro, lighting up a cigarette.
His boots crunched against the gravel, making her aware of his approach long before he actually reached her.
"Need something?" she asked, leaning back against the windshield. Lester's eyes immediately went to her large breasts, sitting atop her flat stomach. Damn he just wanted to yank off her top and slide his dick in between those things.
"Just wondering what you were doing in there." he slid his hands into the waistband of his pants. Instead of curling her lip in disgust like most girls did she chuckled.
"I was dropping something off for a friend, why?"
"Redneck place. You're black. Thought I might ask."
"Hm, I suppose I would too, although I'm not exactly black."
"What are you?"
"Black mom Brazilian dad."
"Can I bum a cigarette?"
She looked down and nodded before hopping off the hood and grabbing a pack of cigarettes from her pocket.
Lester tilted his head, really looking at her. He had only done half a line of coke in the car and this was the closet to being sober he had been in awhile. He was actually noticing little things that he usually wouldn't. Her nails were painted black. Jeans so tight they looked painted on. Her legs were long as hell.
She handed him one and he placed it between his lips, realizing for the first time he had just taken a cig from a stranger. Normally he hand-rolled his, adding a little something extra. This was turning out to be a night of firsts.
"Here." she pulled a lighter out of her pocket and lit it for him. He noticed her faded Hendrix t-shirt. He hated that classic rock shit. He was a hardcore Lynard Skynard fan.
"Thanks." he muttered. She nodded before throwing her cigarette to the ground and stepping on it, leaving a brief smolder and walking to the front door of her car.
"Where you going?" Lester asked.
"Home." she grinned, opening the door.
"I thought we were having a good time." Lester put his hands up in the air.
She leaned against the door, resting a leg on the leather seat before biting her lip.
"Is that an invitation for me to stay?"
"Not really but you can if you want. Bitchin' ride."
"Thanks. It's my baby. I love cars."
"You see that Torino back there?"
She looked around, following his finger.
"Yeah."
"Mine."
"Really?"
"Yep."
"I like it. What kind of engine?"
"Four cylinder."
"Sexy. What's your name?"
"Jeeves."
"Jeeves what?"
"Tremor. You?"
"Jeeves Tremor...as in The Tremor Brothers?"
Jeeves grinned, walking closer to her. He liked the look of surprise on her face.
"Depends on what you've heard."
"You're a group of speed-freak assassins that like to bomb the shit out of places."
"Sounds like us."
"Jesus."
"Never got your name."
"...Why should I tell you that?"
"I'd like to know the name of the girl I'm fucking."
"What makes you assume that we're going to be fucking?" she raised an eyebrow.
"The fact that I'm getting hard right now and I just heard your voice go up an octave."
She stood upright, putting a hand on one hip. For the first time it occurred to him to ask.
"How old are you?"
"...17."
"That a joke? You can't be 17."
"Sorry to disappoint..thought you were a redneck. You like young girls."
"Yeah I guess."
She got into the front seat before closing the door and rolling down the window.
"You coming?" she leaned out of the window.
Lester hung around for a moment before walking to the passenger side and opening the door, then sliding into the sleek car.
She put the key in the ignition and listened to the beautiful engine turn over, roaring to life like some kind of majestic animal. Hell, it was a majestic animal.
She revved the engine and peeled out of the gravel parking lot, going from 0 to 80 out on the open road in seconds, and pushing the car faster. 100. 110. 125.
Everything sped by in a blur. Lester leaned out of the car and screamed. This was the way to fly. The only thing that could make this better right now would be a nice hit of LSD. His brothers say it as a pussy drug. Wimpy. This was 2007, not the 60's the said. But Lester had a different experience. It took him on a mind reel, far beyond his limits, and he had yet to find something better than that.
The evening clouds quickly rolled in, taking the violet-orange sky with it. Soon the dry desert road transformed into trees. Picturesque homes. Suburbia. Children ran around, laughing loudly as they tried to catch fireflies. Someone was mowing his lawn, the scent of freshly-cut grass wafting in through the window. She drove to the end of the road turning into the driveway of an identical home and pulling into the garage.
"Welcome to my humble abode." she smirked, opening the door and getting out. Lester followed suit, looking across the street. Several of the neighbors stared, trying to see what kind of mess that girl had brought in this time.
She smiled and waved arrogantly, walking up the stairs and pulling out her keys. Lester grabbed the handle of his gun before slowly withdrawing it, so that could all see it before running his tongue over the barrel.
Several of the neighbors froze, unsuree wehther or not to call the cops before averting their eyes. Lester giggled nastily before prancing up the stairs and shutting the door behind him with his foot and looking around.
He assessed it from all of his previous jobs. Plaques covered the walls. Plasma screen TV's. Offices. Her daddy must have been a lawyer. A respectable one at that. There were several family portraits on the wall and he leaned in to take a closer look.
"You coming?" she asked, smirking coyly and grasping the handle of the banister. He took a last look at the photo before following her up the winding staircase. It had to be one of the most extravagant homes he had ever seen. The whole neighborhood was.
She led him to the end of the hallway on the second floor before throwing open a door. Inside absolutely everything was covered in zebra print. The bed, walls, television, dresser, carpet...everything.
"Close the door." she muttered, walking over to the bed before lifting her t-shirt over her head and tossing it behind her, shaking out her full mane of curly brown hair.
Lester obeyed, watching as she grabbed the clasp of her bra before unhooking it, letting the material fall to the ground.
He walked forward, grasping her large breasts in his grimy hands. She tilted her head back, closing her eyes...
A/N: Hmm, if you want this to be continued, then I must have reviews! I will wait as long as I have to kaythanksbye :)