Chapter 5
Maybe she should obtain the copyright of the words 'hot' and 'bothered', because the more she thought about her common state or the state she had found herself in for the last couple of days, the clearer she was about the fact, that nothing was clear at all anymore.
Because right about now it left her feeling really hot and bothered. With her Boss pressed up against herself, walking side by side, while they made their way the four remaining blocks back to the brunette's apartment. Bo tried her best to maintain control over the boiling heat seething within her chest.
They had to move slowly because with every step of the blonde's feet, she trembled on wobbly legs.
Bo had her right arm wrapped around the stumbling woman's waist. A firm grip on the hipbone and her left hand was holding onto the leather-clad forearm of Drunken-Lauren-Lewis, which embraced the brunette's front to lay lazily along Bo's belly.
Her Boss' other arm was lingering equally loose around Bo's hip, but her thumb had mystically sneaked a path between her waistband and now somehow caressed the brunette's perfect nakedness underneath. A hard nail meeting with the soft skin of Bo's side. She hadn't had enough of the intoxicating liquid back at the bar to not get horny over that tangling of limbs. Although walking like a knot, some cub-scout would have done a better job of, was a challenge of itself.
She had once been a scout too, but got kicked out after her first house-to-house canvass. It wasn't her fault that this huge glutton tried to fool her. He said he wanted three chocolate bars, grabbed four and just paid for two. As a scout it was her duty to jar his memory, by smacking his nose after stepping on his left big toe so that he leaned forward and fell on his beloved garden gremlin.
Damn smurf, with a damn pushcart, wearing a damn smirk.
She really didn't like those ceramic figures. They all seemed to follow people with their eyes, whilst standing motionless. Creepy.
The fresh air of the night blew gently across Bo's heated skin and reddened face. Only seconds before they were sitting in one of those cabs again.
Bo could have sworn she even heard Godzilla's puffy laughter, when she had tried her best to place a, yet again, very sleepy blonde in the back of the car.
It must have looked like playing with those puppets fixed on a wooden plateau, and when you pushed the button underneath, its strings would loosen and the puppet would slump to the ground with jelly limps.
But much heavier.
And without strings.
But long golden hair all over faces and slippery leather and, well, it took her some time to adjust her Boss safely.
Everything about that cab, which parked in front of the giant Lewis-Hotel, had been extraordinarily yucky.
Behind the steering wheel sat this scruffy, scraggy guy. A gross and pug-ugly version of a human being, who had a lot in common with a lump-head, also known as Steatocranus casuarius.
Her father knew all the Latin designations, which sounded a lot like disgusting diseases or an immedicable illness, and she had been forced to study each and every single one of them.
"It's important to know your enemy, Ysabeau."
Enemy. Pff. They were talking about fish. At that time her enemy wasn't swimming in water but bullying in Kindergarten. Bill Black or Double B, short Dee Bee, which that tiny rat had called himself.
He was the head of the 'Hedgehog-Rowdies'. Hedgehog was the name of one of the groups they apportioned the kids to. Double B had been the first guy ever who had gotten to know Bo's knee-in-balls-kick.
She had perfected that move over the years and she might have to thank Bill for that. Without his ass-boob-special-twist grip, the brunette surely hadn't cultivated the most effective self-defense technique ever seen to mankind.
All in all, Dee Bee was a pain in the ass, literally.
All the groups were named after animals in that catholic institution. Bo had always wanted to be a bear, but those damn educators told her she looked more like a hedgehog. Whatever that was supposed to mean. Pedagogues and especially catholic ones weren't to mess with.
She earned two strikes for that kick. Gretta, the group leader and education major, said something about Jesus and his cheeks, or hitting not only one but both, which had been pretty much what Bo did, but a bit lower, and the brunette couldn't quite understand a word or why she was the one to blame here.
Anyway, three strikes meant to clean the toilet, and Bo had already received two for throwing Lego at Carol that same week. That girl was pushing her luck with building a blockade of plushies around the play corner. Bo was just making a point, that the toys could be used by everyone.
So cleaning it was. For what it was worth, she could at least be sure about peeing in flawless hygienic surroundings. Their sloppy housekeeper could have learned a lot. In your face, Julia!
Thinking about that three strikes part, the brunette didn't know about the number or the obsession people had with the word 'strike', but she felt herself reminisced to her time in Kindergarten, as she was only a far cry from three strikes again.
As an adult.
In a working relationship.
Damn three strikes. She had never been good at holding back her sense of justice, and somehow she got herself knee deep in trouble without doing much to cause it.
Really. She was innocent! Most of the times.
Back in the cab and looking at that gum-chewing perch of a driver in the front seat, Bo thought he had the same bulgy forehead those slippery scales wearer had. A pair of pop eyes peaking out of his face, a bit too far apart and a bit too close to the sides of his dandruff-y head, too.
He was watching the two of them with delight and Bo could even smell fish and it clearly wasn't some ocean scented car refresher. But maybe it could also have been that old sandwich she had found at her feet, and almost stepped upon when she dropped into the backseat.
Right after settling down next to the now sleeping blonde, Bo found herself all cuddled up against her Boss, the second the passenger door closed behind her.
"So, where to, my lovelies?" His gaze dropped to Bo's chest, when his tongue wet it sausage-like lips.
Definitely a lump-head. She hated fish even more after tonight. Who would have thought that was even possible?
After a bit more than fifteen minutes into the drive back to the brunette's place, Bo reached into her bra. First left, then right.
They were gone.
Not her boobs, they were still pretty much there, all bright and shiny, but the banknotes, her bra-cash.
Gone.
When she searched her left boot, ID: check, keys: check, but no money.
"Holy sh..."
The cab driver eyed Bo through the back mirror while she was trying to find the blonde's bra-cash instead. The brunette awkwardly shifted to hover over her Boss in an angle which allowed her to look right down the alley between the most perfect mounts she had ever seen.
Skin begging to be touched.
She could hear the pleading voices yelling something like 'do it' or maybe she just heard random voices, and in that case she should stop taking those dietary supplements pills instantly.
With her fingertips on the seam of the drunken Lewis' black lace bra, feeling the warmth coming from the sleeping beauty, Bo bit her bottom lip to keep herself from peeking further down. Her dark brown orbs flying over shirt, leather jacket, half naked bits, bare skin of cleavage, back to her fingers as she was carefully trying not to get lost in that smashing scent and magnificent sight in front of her.
"Wha- you doin'?"
Startled, Bo let go of her Boss' underwear, jumping back into the door frame she had been pressed up against the whole time, because of that teasing-canoodler next to her.
The brunette wasn't actually aware of her sitting position and the non-existing distance to the side window when Bo tried to put some space between the two of them. So, she crashed her head into the cold, hard glass with a bang.
"Ouwa!"
Rubbing the back of her head, Bo found a grinning Lewis staring back at her through alcohol clouded eyes. She could feel the heat rising from her chest all the way up her neck to settle on her cheeks. Good thing she had grown used to embarrass herself in front of her Boss.
Otherwise it would have felt kind of awkward, but like that it only made her want to crawl back into the cozy little hole she had been digging the last two weeks. Also she had begun to decorate and furnish and... Well she was sure to spend a huge amount of time hiding down there when she had to work for this Lauren Lewis for a longer period of time, so why to not make it a bit more livable?!
"I- uh, was searching for money?", glancing to the smirking blonde, out of the corner of her eyes.
"In my bra?"
"Yes?"
"Mhm."
Her Boss' gaze was fixed on her reddened skin. Bo tried her best to avoid eye contact but couldn't escape the challenging glance forcing her to explain herself further.
"I didn't think of you as a pants-coins kinda girl, so..."
"Pants-coins?"
"Yes. You look more like a bills carrier."
The head, heavy on the blonde's shoulders, rolled to the right to rest upon the brunette's upper arm. Bo was sure the blonde would suffer the next day. That position almost cried out for neck stiffness. A sigh left the woman signaling she would drift back to sleep any minute.
"I am a back-pocket-black-credit-card enthusiast."
Bo nodded and rolled her eyes.
"Yeah, sure you are."
So no money available. How should she tell - what's his name - that they weren't able to pay for the ride?
Leaning forward, one hand supporting sleepyhead to not fall upon that weird smelling seats face first, Bo read the ID glued to the dashboard.
"L- Larry?"
"Whazup, hottie?"
Urgh. Just shut up.
"We, we might have a little problem paying for your services..."
A sudden push on the brakes and the yellow car stopped abruptly, causing Bo to grab the head rest of the front seat with her right hand and tightening her hold on her Boss with her left for stabilization.
"Hey, are you nuts?"
Turning the key in the ignition the motor fell silent. Larry pulled the gear shift into park and spun around to face the two women. His expression not quite readable but Bo was positive that she saw a flash of anger in his bug-eyed face or maybe he was just eager to get that worm dangling on an invisible fishhook next to the brunette's face.
"Whataya mean by a little problem?"
Using his fore- and middle-fingers to draw quotation marks on the left and right side of his misshapen fish-like head.
Did his eyes just move in opposite directions?
"Perch!", Bo coughed. "Sorry."
"So?"
Bo straightened her sitting position. Her left arm encircled the blonde woman again, pulling her protectively to her body, head lying on the brunette's shoulder.
"Yeah. Larry, right?"
The man nodded slightly, his eyes growing into tight slits.
"Look. My friend and I have some trouble in finding our cash right now. So maybe you could drive to the nearest cash point so we can..."
"No, no, no. I know ya kind."
His forefinger, warped like he had been picking his nose one of too many times, pointing alternately from the brunette to the blonde and back again.
"Ya can't fool me. But, money ain't da only way to pay uncle Larry."
A dirty hand with yellow nails found its way on her Boss' left knee, drawing small circles, inching higher with every round his booger-fingers absolved.
"Gosh, I think I have to puke any second!"
Bo could feel that heat rising again. But it wasn't embarrassment nudging on the front door of her limbic system. It was disgust that spread its wings in her stomach.
"Fuck the counting, never did any good anyway," mumbling to herself, her right hand caught Larry's roaming one and squeezed it tightly. She was twisting his fingers so hard, that he had to crouch aside, squeaking like a school girl getting her butt slapped by some sports teacher, who couldn't keep his professional distance.
"Let go, let go!"
"Touch her again and you can forget all about self service for the next couple of days."
"Yeah, yeah, okay. Sorry."
Bo let loose and Larry shook his arm, caressing his wrist. While looking at her own hand and wrinkling her nose - she needed to disinfect that one – she brushed off invisible germs on her thigh.
"Damn, honey. No need to get bitchy."
"Don't honey me, egghead."
Looking back at the deeply breathing woman in her arms, Bo's anger ebbed away. A golden lock was moving upon the other woman's face with every exhale. Brushing the strand away with gentle fingers, the brunette smiled softly. Looking at the beauty in her arms, she could easily forget everything around them. Including the drooling bone sack named Larry, speaking up again.
"I'd be okay just sittin' here watchin' the two of ya in action, ya know!"
Bo's head shot up, focusing the wide grinning cab driver with a dead stare.
"You better watch out or my fist connects with what you call a face and you won't be able to watch anything but the swelling in front of your eyes!"
Holding his hands up, he shook his head.
"So, for that you should be happy that I don't call the police. We'll go now."
The taximeter blinked its red numbers in silence, seemingly okay with the fact that it had worked for nothing on this ride.
Bo turned back to her Boss. Their faces mere inches apart. She could smell the air pregnant of whiskey and about to give birth to a fully grown hangover in the next couple of hours.
Leaning closer to the blonde's ear, Bo yet again brushed away loose tresses, softer than anything she had ever felt between her fingertips ever before.
"Miss Lewis? Lauren? Lauren wake up. We have to get out."
Her Boss stirred and looked up. Her eyes heavy with sleep.
"Okay." Her voice hoarse and barely a whisper.
They got out of the car. Hello night-stroll, goodbye stinky-ride.
So they walked and stumbled and walked on. Somewhere, along the third corner and forth alley, the Sleepyhead-Lewis woke up again, and extremely ‚hot' and ‚bothered' turned into hilariously funny. Her Boss had a strange kind of humor. A humor Bo was shocked about here and there, but most of all liked it a lot.
Throwing words around, like larva therapy and gold-fly, and that those little wormies had an unbelievable huge appetite. She called them Goldies, because they were worth a billion - no less - for the work they were doing in a wound.
"And that one time back in university", she rambled on, slurring some words along the way, "I stole a pack of those little swarm-er and...", a hearty laugh escaped her lungs and she almost lost her balance if it wasn't for Bo's reflex to pull her more firmly against her side, "... I lard my roommate's salad with them. She actually took two bites, before I couldn't hold myself together anymore. You should have seen her face!"
Bo would never be able to look at salad the way she did before, ever again.
She was wondering about her Boss and what kind of work she was doing. Maybe the brunette actually should google her.
The blonde talked and giggled and poked her forefinger into Bo's cheek and belly and upper arm, but lost balance and accidentally groped Caro.
Bo named her left boob Caro and her right Linn.
She loved those names and she loved her girl junk, so in a drunken, and really weird night full of bright colors and awkward noises coming from that German-low-hang-bits granny from downstairs, she decided to give the most precious parts of her body the most beautiful names.
Well, she hadn't had a car back then nor anything else she could have given a name to.
As a kid she dreamed about her own kids and the older she had grown, the more she had become aware of the fact that having kids wasn't that simple, or better said, finding that someone she saw herself with having those little squallers, wasn't that simple. The more she had seen what family looked like, watching her Dad and Mum, the more she just had known that she wouldn't want that for her own family.
So in retrospective, baptizing her girls was the most logical thing she had ever done, and it was a lovely ceremony. Just her, two bottles of cheap white wine - one for each - and her favorite underwear. Don't ask for more details, she had forgotten most of it anyway.
Bo stopped walking and stared at her Boss, who was still in full bedtime story-mode and not aware of where her finger had just landed. So she tried to shrug it off and they continued their seemingly endless journey.
When they finally arrived at Bo's apartment complex, that former state of hilariously funny had grown completely out of control.
Why? Because…
Because that simply couldn't have been Lauren Lewis. Her Boss. Stone face, rational voice and all.
That woman must have been replaced with some kind of alien. There was no other way thinkable.
Bo was positive to run into Dan Aykroyd behind the next corner or that she was the female version of Steven Mills. She had watched ‚My Stepmother is an Alien' more than once, maybe that was the problem.
Maybe she finally went bananas for good now.
They stumbled up all those pretty too damn many one-hundred-something stairs, to the brunette's front door. A chuckling blonde and a brunette trying to steady them both with one hand on the banister, and the other one holding on her Boss.
Bo was afraid they might lose balance with every step they were taking.
The giggle transformed into some weird grunting-like sounds that made Bo's libido wake up from a too many months of beauty sleep. It also didn't help anything, that the blonde started to untangle herself from her clothes within stair number ninety eight.
"No! What- what are you doing?"
"It is hot in here! I- why is it so hot in here?"
Ernst! She had forgotten all about that heating system.
"It's- okay, you have to stop."
Fishing the thrown off leather jacket off of the stairs, she took hold on the blonde's hands already fiddling with the hem of her shirt, pulling it up a bit. A toned stomach greeted her with twitching muscles, speaking some weird language of seduction of their own, when Bo forced her Boss to put the fabric back down.
"But I'm sweating."
"Oh boy, please."
Bo couldn't stop the images flooding her mind. None of them would pass the ‚Protection of young Persons Act' and she was positive that even the late night program would decline the rights to bring that show on.
The last remaining stairs they fought some kind of awkward battle. Goldie - yeah, why not? Lewis had blonde locks and loved Gold-flies and it didn't matter that that nickname was already taken. Also, it just fitted right now! - made a game out of driving Bo insane, or sexually aroused, which was about the same in that situation.
Again: many, many months of only self service and many, many days of driving-Miss-Lewis!
Remember that dude, with that acquaintance of a friend of hers'? Before that base-jump without parachute, and before he had those- issues to concentrate, he was liaised with a girl sending him short messages.
Reading it like that didn't sound that bad but she wasn't just writing short messages, no. She was showing off her special parts and secret spots, but he had never been allowed to touch them.
See? Sexuality was a dick! Also bondage was, but that was a whole different story to tell.
Chuckling while tucking on shirts and buttons of jeans, and leather that wasn't her Boss', Bo managed to catch the blonde's hands, and trap her arms around her from behind, so that they were kinda spooning each other, when her front door came into sight.
"Let me- Driver, I can walk on my own!"
"Yeah, that you can! But you can't keep your clothes on!"
"Yes I can!"
"No you can't!"
"Sure, I can."
They stopped in the hallway leading to Bo's apartment. Still holding her Boss' wrist in a tight grip in front of the blonde's stomach. Both breathing heavily. Bo leaned her head forward to the other woman's left ear.
"So, you promise to keep your free body culture locked up for some other time, which is not in the nearer future?"
A nod.
"And I can trust you with that?"
Another nod.
"Okay, I'm gonna let you go then", loosening the grip and stepping back a few inches, "but I swear, when you- Lauren!"
Giggling the blonde was yet again fiddling with her shirt. This time Bo didn't get to her in time to stop her and the shirt was off within seconds in a swift move. The brunette jumped forward and crashed into her Boss, who was starting to unbutton her jeans yet again. Tackling her, they lost balance and fell onto the cold, hard, flagged floor.
The blonde laughed, the brunette groaned and from behind a crack of a door opening rounded up a perfect Friday night.
"The hell, Dennis! It's almost one in the mo- orning."
Or a perfect Saturday morning then.
"Fuck!"
Bo looked down on a very naked blonde only wearing thin lace to cover her bits and whose cleavage was on eye level of the brunette.
Scents of perfume, whiskey, hallway floor and those Indian spices, coming from Mister 'I'm a culinary master in delivery'-Douchebag's wide open apartment door, filled the air.
A shock-like state made Bo's body freeze while scanning her Boss, laying underneath with skin so damn visible and that thigh between her thighs, didn't help much to clear her lust-fogged mind. Okay, she was sure she had dreamed about something like that one night, but that scene was a bit different when she had created it in her head. On second thought, she had to take what was offered, right?
A heavy breath, like an ox exhaling through his nostrils, pushed Bo back into reality. Looking up at two sparkling eyes and the sweetest smile on the blonde's lips Bo had ever seen on her. Not that she'd seen many smiles to begin with.
They were holding each other's gaze, more serious now. No laughter could be heard anymore. Just that obnoxious ox, which must have been close to expire based on the grunting and heavy puffs of breath coming from his lungs.
Bo blinked and snapped out of whatever movie was shown in that cinema called her head. Looking left and right she spotted the shirt, reached out for it and coated the blonde with it, before she got up and turned around to face that animal-like peeper.
"You know, you should better go and watch one of those Blue Movies from that large collection of yours to have one off the wrist."
Bo stepped closer, to shield this nudist of a Lewis still lying on the floor. Mr. Ugh-of-Yuk tried to get another glimpse by leaning sideways to look past his neighbor, whose patience was about to give up any second.
She really didn't want to touch him, to push him back into his stall of an apartment. Her stomach twisted by the view of his whole-body-pajama with the fly a bit too close to reveal his small hamster balls. And Bo once had a hamster. So, she knew what she would be looking at. There was more fur than anything else, but anyway, she wouldn't want to risk eye cancer or insomnia because of persistent vomit sessions caused from her photographic mind and the pictures of human-hamster-balls on repeat.
"Back off! Go! Get lost and- God damnit buy some new nightwear or at least a bathrobe!"
He moved backwards, still sneaking around the furious brunette.
"Dude, naff off, or you get to know Miss Manliness Destroyer." Her eyes looking like dagger's and her forefinger pointing at her right knee. Yep, she really had to send Dee Bee a 'Cheers mate'-card.
That bull with apparently not a lot of any female encounters stepped back, a last glaring stare at Bo and a tap on a non-existing clock on his wrist, he mouthed 'one o'clock' before closing the door.
"Bloody- voyeur!" Not her best remark, but this was some kind of exceptional state. He could be sure of more than just one coffee patch on his next newspaper.
Bo closed her eyes for a second. She had just wanted to get laid. Easy, simple, the old fashioned way.
Okay, there could have been some surprises here and there, but anyway, either she was getting too old for that - which wasn't really an option, because even if she had grown old, and by old she meant forty-ish, she would still be sex on a stick, fact! - or she peed on Karma's favorite pair of Manolo Blahniks, in that case she would like to apologize, because she just needed release.
Pretty much. Pretty please.
Turning around, she opened her eyes again after taking one deep breath and letting out an even longer sigh.
She looked back down on a very much dead to the world Lauren Lewis, clutching her shirt to her chest, her blonde tresses all around her head. The light of the overhead mirroring a golden shimmer in her strands.
"Oh my, what am I about to do with you, Lauren?"
Kneeling to her Boss' right side, Bo caressed her bare forearm. Soft cool skin underneath her sweaty fingertips. The sleepy woman's eyelids flutter open. Dilated pupils slowly dwindling as the blonde tried to focus on the Driver hovering over her.
"Hey there."
"Hi", a groggy sigh and a slight frown formed her former relaxed features, "Driver?"
"Yes."
"I- uh, I really don't feel that well."
Bo's heart sunk and she didn't exactly know what made her feel this weird change of atmosphere, inside of her. Of course her Boss would feel bad at some point within her intoxicated state. And for sure she would hate herself the next day.
Bo knew what she was talking about.
She had experienced like a thousands of those mornings slash afternoons, depending on when she had forced herself to continue living life again.
But there was something in the woman's eyes and the way she looked back at Bo, as if she was the only one who could make it all better. The only one who could fix this. It made her heart beat harder, her belly jump up and down and her chest scream out loud.
Brushing some hair behind the blonde's ear, a soft smile spread upon the brunette's lips.
"Yes, I know. Come on. You don't want to sleep on that floor. Let's get you inside, okay?"
When Bo had managed to finally settle her overnight guest in her bed after helping them to change into something more comfortable and feeding some aspirin with a bit of water, she let herself slam down on the couch.
Her apartment was surprisingly cool. Whatever Ernst had done down there in the basement, he probably destroyed the heating system for good this time. Bo was sure about that.
Tomorrow. She would have to talk to that Friday the thirteen's version of an oompa loompa tomorrow.
Bane made his way along the floor across the sofa, heading to his night camp on the brunette's bed, when two strong hands caught him and carried his with kibbled stuffed belly back to the living room.
"Sorry, sweetheart, tonight we have to share this tiny space right here."
Placing him on the couch, Bo got herself ready to catch some hard-earned rest. After brushing her teeth, she filled the bottom of an old cleaning bucket with a little bit of water and made her way towards her sleeping Boss.
Thinking that she might need it tonight.
Better being prepared than dealing with the consequences unfurled like a sticky carpet on the floor. One last longing look on the beauty in her bed, a sigh yet again filled the silence of her apartment.
"I'm in deep shit!"