The Linello Showrooms were one step away from a strip joint. The
furnishings were elaborate, heavy wooden bars, tables - the seats were
thickly cushioned, rotating bar stools and dining chairs with tapestry
padding. At the far end of the room was a stage, with a piano and a string
quartet, playing accompaniment to a solo female singer, a thin French woman
who had draped herself over the body of the closed grand piano.
Pedestals, dotted around the room hosted scantily clad dancers, who occasionally climbed off the pedestals long enough to entertain a particular high paying ogler. The majority of the clientele of the bar were male, although there were a few women that weren't employees, but each one was attached to a man, afraid that should they venture off, their position on their lover's hip would be stolen by one of the dancers.
Nina collected the olives from her martini and sucked the bitter alcoholic fluid off the end fruit. Her eyes scanned the bar once again, and she crossed and uncrossed her legs again, plucking the last olive off the end, biting into the green foodstuff.
The bartender came over, by now he'd gathered she spoke English, although he probably didn't realise she was American, and asked if she was okay. "I'm fine, thanks." She replied, offering a weak smile and nodding. He wasn't the guy she was looking for, but he was horny, so as far as he was concerned, he had reason to monopolise her conversation.
"I can not get you anything?" He inquired, tripping over his syllables.
"No, I'm fine." She said again. The slimy bartender tossed back a lock of hair and licked his index finger; he took her hand and ran his wet finger down the back of her hand. He blew at her hand, and then dropped it back on the table, so she could wipe her hand on her skirt.
A skirt, which was far too short for her liking. She wasn't normally one to care, and she certainly wasn't a prude as far as clothing went, but this particular skirt had a zipper at the waist, and the end of the skirt wasn't two inches from the end of the zipper. The skirt was black, like most of her clothing, but it had two slits at the side, reaching to the hilt of her thigh. The top was red, very red, it was a vest that criss cross straps at the back and it had a cowl neck at the front, with a few tiny beads. She'd fluffed about with her hair for nearly half an hour, evidently the stagnant water from the pool was still taking its toll. It was now looking somewhat normal, and coupled with flawless makeup...she looked like a whore.
But then turning around and scanning the room, again, so did all the other women in here.
She yawned and arched her back, inadvertently letting her blouse drop another inch over her chest. "You getting tired?" Jack's voice came over her earpiece, the small clear plastic vibrating a little as he spoke.
Nina checked for anyone listening to her, no body was around; the pervert bartender was serving someone else. "You see him yet?" She asked, taking a sip of drink from her glass. She crossed her legs again, rotating the barstool. She spun round, moving straight past Jack and watching the stage performer.
Jack was seated half way across the room, in front a dancer. She was bored with him, having tried to seduce him and finding him dedicated to the mission, she'd moved on, and was about to be escorted away by a young businessman. Nina spotted another woman making her way towards Jack, and was sure he would be distracted again in a few minutes. "Hang on, I think he just walked through the front door."
Sure enough just as he finished talking, a woman made her way up the podium steps and began dancing in front of Jack, who had to afford her some attention, regardless of whether or not he found her attractive.
Nina directed her eyes over at the entrance door, sure enough, Carlos Batilla, the military officer they were hoping to ensnare was standing by the door. A concierge had taken his coat and he was being led towards a booth in the centre island of the room. She diverted her attention to a dancer to avoid looking directly at Batilla, and then made her way over to the bar closest to their table. She walked right past Jack, but wasn't sure if he noticed her - the dancer was in his lap now.
-24-
"Carlos!" welcomed Pierre Linello, the proprietor of the Linello showrooms. Carlos had been coming to the showrooms for two years now, he tried to come once a week, when his work would permit, but he hated coming at the same time as his soldiers. Tonight they were all on maneuvers or confined to barracks, it suited him perfectly.
Carlos wrapped his arms around the man, and allowed him to lead the way to his usual booth, right in the middle of the room. The raised back afforded him some privacy, whilst the position gave him a prime view of the stage, of Senorita Calenta who sung every Wednesday, Friday and Saturday night. Carlos took a seat in the plush leather booth and watched as Lieutenant Hant slid in the booth opposite him. "Are you hungry?" Pierre inquired.
"Yes, I want that lovely duck recipe your chef makes." Carlos requested. Pierre spoke the French name, but Carlos waved him off - their mutual language was English, trying to teach him French was a waste of time.
"He's been wanting some of that all week." joked Hant, who took a menu to make his choice. It was rare that Carlos could tolerate his subordinate's company enough to invite him to the Showrooms.
"And your company for the evening?" Pierre asked. He wasn't really bothered with Hant's choice in food, not that the man had chosen yet, Carlos had the temper.
"Is Colette in tonight?" Carlos asked. Colette was a 21 year old blonde, she was thin as a rake, but with large breasts and wide hips - a pornographic fantasy. She was also a very good actress, and had Carlos believing she enjoyed her time with him, meaning she could charge higher and higher rates for her services.
"No, tonight she is unwell - a cold - I'm afraid." Pierre apologised, angry he hadn't been more insistent with the young woman when she had phoned earlier.
"Chloe, then?" Carlos moved onwards.
Pierre had just watched Chloe walk off the most eastern podium with a rich businessman from Germany. Carlos may have had the temper, but this young man's clientele was much more valuable to him. "No, I am afraid she is indisposed."
Carlos sighed and reached into his pocket, he pulled out a cigar. One of Pierre's waiters leant forward and lit the cigar for him. He took a long drag before he removed it and spoke. "The English girl?"
"Edith returned home to continue her studies, Carlos." Pierre apologised. He glanced around him, Carla, Lolita, Sukie, Jing-May and Gretel were all dancing on podiums around him, easily accessible. He wished that Carlos would just chose one of them.
"Well what girls are working for you tonight then, Pierre?" Carlos growled. Across the table, Hant retreated into his cushion. "I will make my choice from them."
Pierre opened his mouth to name women, but Carlos barked him shut. "Never mind, I will make my choice from the single women here, surely there are some." Carlos grinned across at Hant. "I doubt there's a woman here who's mouth I haven't felt."
"Amongst other things." Hant commented. Carlos and Hant laughed together, Pierre just watched nervously - it looked like he would have to hire new staff, before the General's next visit.
"Leave me, get my duck." Carlos dismissed. Pierre shuffled away, leaving Hant, and his order with Carlos. The younger man would quite happily make a detour to the bar in order to place his order of food, and take his choice from one of Pierre's girls that was working tonight, he knew that Maria, a seventeen year old native was partial to Hant, and him to her, despite his oafishness and outwardly misogynist demeanor.
Carlos directed his attention at his current dinner companion, Hant, who began to fidget upon realising he was the object of his superior's perusal. Carlos suppressed a laugh, new recruits were one thing, but the company of Hant was not something he desired tonight, or any night. He was looking for a woman. "I finished that report you asked for on Private..."
Carlos cut him off. "Do not talk to me about work, not now, not here." He reprimanded, and allowed his eyes to wander. Hant had yet to make his order yet, and made excuses to go to the bar. Carlos watched him retreat away, and noticed a group of women seated at a table, not far from where Hant had progressed to the bar - they couldn't have been more than twenty- five years old, and tourists, local women didn't come in here unless they wanted to make a wage. Carlos headed to the bar, he would purchase drinks for all of them, and see which ones would bite.
Carlos had aged well. He was nearly fifty, but his career in the military had demanded physical fitness, at least for the first fifteen years, and he'd managed to keep it up to a reasonable level. He still took his boat out every Tuesday and dived into the water for a quick swim. Carlos had a mop of black hair and deep skin, and his accent had gotten him his fair share of 'local hospitality' when he'd toured with the Navy and then the Air force. He hadn't attempted to find a woman outside of Pierre's payroll in nearly a year now, but he was confident in his abilities.
Carlos waved a hand at the bartender as he approached the bar, the young man nodded - quickly passing a drink to a client and then moving over to Carlos, ignoring the cluster of clients that had settled around the till. "Get me a few bottles of Don Perignon for that table over there." He told the young man.
"Would you like me to bring it over?" he asked, his Spanish wasn't fluent, he formed a few words differently - Carlos guessed Italian or French.
"No, I will take them - two, perhaps a third." Carlos requested. The man wandered off to collect the bottles, climbing down into the cellar, and Carlos let his vision wander. Isabella Calenta was holding onto the tie of her pianist as she laid back on the piano.
"Are you going to drink all that yourself?" asked a voice behind him, female. Carlos turned, only to be greeted by the image of a young woman, perhaps thirty, dressed in red and black. She had short black hair, and soft blue eyes.
And the smile she wore on her face left no interpretation. "I might need some help." He replied, resting against the counter. The bartender opened the first bottle, eyeing the body language and understanding the odd word of their conversation. He reached under the counter for a second glass.
"That's good champagne, are you celebrating something?" The woman placed her hands on her hips, cocking one towards the champagne.
"Yes." Carlos took the two poured glasses, passing one to the young woman. She raised her eyebrows, and he answered her silent question. "Meeting you."
She laughed, giddily, almost as though she had had a little too much to drink already, and chinked her glass with his. She leant forward and placed a hand on his elbow, letting her shirt drop a little, revealing milky white cleavage.
Carlos brushed off the stool between them, and gestured with his hands for her to take a seat there, she obliged, slipping onto the stool and turning it a little so she faced him. Carlos leaned back against the bar whilst he sipped some of his champagne. "Have you been in Malaga long? Here on holiday?"
"I'm here for a week more - from LA." The woman replied, crossing her legs. She had yet to take a sip of her champagne. "Nina Archer." She told him, extending a hand halfway to his chest.
Carlos extended his own, "Carlos Batilla." They shook hands. He took the time to take in her body, he started at her waist and worked his way down and then took more stock as he reached her feet. She wore strappy black shoes, lovely legs, of which she bore a lot, the skirt she wore was making its way progressively up her thighs. She was leaning towards him, dropping her blouse a little, he could see her chest, down to the skin between her breasts. He found himself unconsciously leaning forwards.
Nina coughed, smiling widely at Carlos as she caught his attention again. "How's your champagne?" He asked her.
She took a quick, but long sip and swallowed it suddenly. "Lovely, thank you." She replied, she gulped and looked down at the floor for a second, scratching her ear.
Carlos searched for a topic of conversation that wasn't completely redundant. "Are you enjoying your stay?" He asked, coming up trumps. Nina laughed and placed a hand on his elbow again, rubbing at it with her thumb.
"Yes, its lovely - warm and sunny. I haven't seen much of the mountains yet, but..."
"I grew up in the mountains." Carlos commented. Nina leant forward, resting an elbow on the table and taking another sip of her drink. She raised an eyebrow.
"Really?"
Carlos nodded, turning to face her and placing an arm on her knee. She was obviously interested, but Carlos wondered if his chances with her were the same as his chances with the women at the table. Was she worth potentially loosing the chance of having two young women from the table? He sneaked a glance at them out of the corner of his eye...they weren't stunningly attractive, not like this one. "Yes, my father had a cabin up there, he worked in the city. He left every morning at five and returned after I'd gone to bed."
Nina smiled, "What about your mother?"
Carlos laughed, letting his thumb smooth around her knee. "She died when I was young, but I don't want to be thinking about my mother right now." The woman laughed, almost a cackle, and Carlos slid his hand further up her leg, wedging his thumb between them. "Join me at my booth." He said to her.
Nina nodded, and stood, accepting his hand to lead the way to his table. He carried one of the bottles he'd requested, leaving the other two, and his own glass to the table. Nina made sure to take hers with her. Carlos paused as he reached the table, letting Nina slide into the booth before he did.
Nina adjusted her skirt as she waited for him to take his seat, she took a moment to get a surreptitious glance at Jack, who was sitting down in front of another woman, one closer to the table than he had already. He looked over at Nina, giving no indication that he'd spotted her, but she had to hope he did. She had no intention of letting Carlos lead her further on than she wanted, it was make the switch and get out carefully, that was her plan.
She felt Carlos' hand on her thigh before she saw him put it down and she nearly jumped, she covered it with the most seductive smile she could muster, and glanced down at his hand.
Encouraged, Carlos bought his hand further up her thigh, deciding to test the limits of her restraint and her skirt, his palm landed on the end of the black material, leaving his fingers with free roam of her thigh. She laughed and collected his hand, bringing it back up to the table to play with his fingers. Carlos was not in the mood to be toyed with tonight, didn't want some frigid tourist leading him on.
He knew it was rude, but he was about to query her intentions when she spoke. "This is cold." She told him, and slid his gold onyx ring off his finger, placing it down on the table. She replaced his hand on her thigh, leaving it a little lower down than he had placed it.
Carlos objected "This was a gift from my father." He told her, gesturing with the ring in his free hand whilst his other hand rode up her thigh. He didn't want to waste any time with this woman, he wanted to know what she was willing to do to him tonight, and he wanted to know now, so he rotated his wrist and slid his fingers up her skirt, reaching several inches inside the shiny black fabric.
She gasped whilst he spoke, but had recovered enough to retort him at the end. "And I don't want to be thinking about your father right now." She responded, collecting her glass of champagne and taking a long sip.
Nina fingered his ring on the table for a minute, leaning back in her seat. Carlos swore her legs slid a little further apart as she did so, and took the opportunity, swapping hands to make himself more comfortable. He reached an arm around her back, rubbing her shoulder and drawing her closer to him. He kissed her, reaching as far into her mouth as he could and reaching his hand as far up her skirt as possible, she groaned into his mouth as he played with the fabric between her legs. He broke the kiss quickly. "Why don't we finish this some where else? Pierre has a number of rooms..." He raised his eyebrow at her, letting her read exactly what he wanted her to into his suggestion.
"Okay." She said, shakily and after a pause. She rose from the table, and Carlos stood too, leading the way away from the table, off to the same area that he had been to every night he'd visited here. All of a sudden Nina's hand pulled free and she darted back to the table.
Carlos turned back, confused, and watched as she returned to him. "Don't you want your ring?" She asked, handing it to him. Carlos slipped his ring back on his finger, he didn't car if she said it was cold - he'd soon make her forget it anyway - but he didn't want to put it in a pocket and forget it.
"Gracias." He replied, forgetting to speak English for a moment, he gave her a large grin and then tugged her towards the second exit to the club. One of the doorman opened the door for him and Carlos tugged her inside, ready to select a room for them.
Nina began to worry, the plan was that Jack was to intercept them, but she didn't expect to have been whisked off that quickly. When she'd rushed back to the table she'd told Jack she was nearly ready to go, and now she wasn't sure how she would get out, at least not without fucking Carlos - something she had no plans to do. The microphone was two way, but she couldn't say anything without Carlos noticing. Carlos led her up a flight of stairs. The building was three storeys tall and decorated in old style furnishings that almost matched the lobby, the same mahogany banisters and railing, but with green wall paper rather than the red outside. On the second floor Carlos opened the large door at the top of the stairs, leading the way inside the room, he still had a strong grip on her wrist and she didn't want to struggle, not unless she thought she could get away.
The door slammed behind them, and Nina glanced around the room, it was big, a large four poster bed in the middle of the door on her right, no curtains, just bare posts and a few tied net curtains, on the far side of the bed was a door, open, and leading to a bathroom. On her left were a few dressers and tall window, barely open, letting in the humid night air and sound of the town below. Carlos gave her a long revolting kiss before he wandered over to shut the window. "Make yourself at home." He instructed, wandering over to the bathroom. He shut the door, blocking out the bathroom light from the room.
Nina searched for a light switch in the dim streetlight, she eventually found one, whispering to Jack in her earpiece. "Where are you?"
"Where are you?" He asked back.
Nina rounded the bed and watched the door to the bathroom, terrified it would open at any second and she'd have to shut up. "Out the back, second floor, door at the top of the stairs." She whispered just as the door opened.
Carlos came out of the bathroom, sporting a wide smile on his face as Jack's voice came back over the earpiece. "I'm on my way." He told her, the radio buzzing in her ear.
Nina smiled back at Carlos as the man rounded the bed and reached out his hands for her. He took her hands and pulled her towards the bed, not kissing her until she nearly tripped over the mattress. Nina tried to think of a safe place to put her hands, she didn't want to edge him on, but she didn't want to slow him down too much in case he objected and she ended up trapped. She settled for putting them on his neck, whilst his freely roamed her body, eventually finding the side zipper on her dress and the tie on the straps at the back of her blouse. He managed to untie the top and partially unzip the skirt before she took a more active approach.
Nina pulled her lips away from his and pushed him backwards, causing him to land on the bed with a thump and a bit of a bounce, she settled herself on top of him, straddling his stomach and held his hands for a minute, playing the drunk to the best of her abilities, after a while Carlos began muttering her name and reaching for her clothing again so she moved onwards, trying to avoid the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach and to ignore the prodding from his erection on her thigh.
Carlos laughed, throwing his head back, as she backed herself off of his hips and felt her hand enclose around his zipper - she may have been drunk but she was quite eager, for a woman rather than one of Pierre's whores, and after the longest unzipping these trousers had ever experienced, he felt his erection free from his trousers. Her hands tugged at his boxers, he longed for her to slip her hands inside them, and she, excruciatingly slowly, pulled his boxers down.
The door bursting open wasn't exactly the thing he was expecting to happen. Carlos yelled obscenities in his native tongue at the man in the doorway, a blonde in his mid thirties as he grappled with his fly. The man was calling the woman's name "Nina, what the fuck do you think you are doing?" He asked. The blonde man gripped the woman's forearm and pulled her off the bed. "Jesus! I leave you alone for a second."
Nina seemed stunned, she pulled her arm away from him and made a start back towards the bed, only to be grabbed by the wrist and jerked away. "Jack, I'm warning you..."
"We have one fight and you just find some nameless Spanish guy to shag? You are my wife, Nina!"
Carlos was stunned, he scrambled off the bed and stood on the other side of the woman, placing his hands on his hips and scowling. "You are married?" He asked, shocked - Carlos had never been amazed by the sanctity of marriage, but he had only had one spouse to his credit, and he had been young and in love at the time.
"I love you," Jack, the husband, ran a hand across his face. "I can't believe that one argument and....do you even know this guy...one argument, Nina - I love you!" He exclaimed, before heading to the door.
"Jack!" She called after him, repentant. Carlos knew he had to return to Pierre's floor, unsatisfied. Nina reached out for his arm and grabbed hold of it, stopping him at the end of the bed. "I'm sorry." She whispered, standing in his personal space in what should have been an embrace. "I'm so sorry."
Jack placed his hands on either side of his wife, resting them on her elbows. "What if we have more fights?" He asked her, his voice sounding tired and sad.
"What _if_ we have more fights?" She replied, leaning into him and kissing him.
Carlos watched the kiss, embarrassed, angry when he watched them break apart, eyes closed, they were obviously newlyweds, and reveling in the sensation of having the other close. "Let's get out of here." The husband said, before she led the way out of the room again.
Carlos flopped back onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling, at some point, someone had put the lights on, and he shut his eyes waiting for the green blur to pass. He wondered whether he should have left earlier, he could have let them have the room.
That was the first night Carlos Batilla left Pierre's showrooms without getting laid.
-24-
Pedestals, dotted around the room hosted scantily clad dancers, who occasionally climbed off the pedestals long enough to entertain a particular high paying ogler. The majority of the clientele of the bar were male, although there were a few women that weren't employees, but each one was attached to a man, afraid that should they venture off, their position on their lover's hip would be stolen by one of the dancers.
Nina collected the olives from her martini and sucked the bitter alcoholic fluid off the end fruit. Her eyes scanned the bar once again, and she crossed and uncrossed her legs again, plucking the last olive off the end, biting into the green foodstuff.
The bartender came over, by now he'd gathered she spoke English, although he probably didn't realise she was American, and asked if she was okay. "I'm fine, thanks." She replied, offering a weak smile and nodding. He wasn't the guy she was looking for, but he was horny, so as far as he was concerned, he had reason to monopolise her conversation.
"I can not get you anything?" He inquired, tripping over his syllables.
"No, I'm fine." She said again. The slimy bartender tossed back a lock of hair and licked his index finger; he took her hand and ran his wet finger down the back of her hand. He blew at her hand, and then dropped it back on the table, so she could wipe her hand on her skirt.
A skirt, which was far too short for her liking. She wasn't normally one to care, and she certainly wasn't a prude as far as clothing went, but this particular skirt had a zipper at the waist, and the end of the skirt wasn't two inches from the end of the zipper. The skirt was black, like most of her clothing, but it had two slits at the side, reaching to the hilt of her thigh. The top was red, very red, it was a vest that criss cross straps at the back and it had a cowl neck at the front, with a few tiny beads. She'd fluffed about with her hair for nearly half an hour, evidently the stagnant water from the pool was still taking its toll. It was now looking somewhat normal, and coupled with flawless makeup...she looked like a whore.
But then turning around and scanning the room, again, so did all the other women in here.
She yawned and arched her back, inadvertently letting her blouse drop another inch over her chest. "You getting tired?" Jack's voice came over her earpiece, the small clear plastic vibrating a little as he spoke.
Nina checked for anyone listening to her, no body was around; the pervert bartender was serving someone else. "You see him yet?" She asked, taking a sip of drink from her glass. She crossed her legs again, rotating the barstool. She spun round, moving straight past Jack and watching the stage performer.
Jack was seated half way across the room, in front a dancer. She was bored with him, having tried to seduce him and finding him dedicated to the mission, she'd moved on, and was about to be escorted away by a young businessman. Nina spotted another woman making her way towards Jack, and was sure he would be distracted again in a few minutes. "Hang on, I think he just walked through the front door."
Sure enough just as he finished talking, a woman made her way up the podium steps and began dancing in front of Jack, who had to afford her some attention, regardless of whether or not he found her attractive.
Nina directed her eyes over at the entrance door, sure enough, Carlos Batilla, the military officer they were hoping to ensnare was standing by the door. A concierge had taken his coat and he was being led towards a booth in the centre island of the room. She diverted her attention to a dancer to avoid looking directly at Batilla, and then made her way over to the bar closest to their table. She walked right past Jack, but wasn't sure if he noticed her - the dancer was in his lap now.
-24-
"Carlos!" welcomed Pierre Linello, the proprietor of the Linello showrooms. Carlos had been coming to the showrooms for two years now, he tried to come once a week, when his work would permit, but he hated coming at the same time as his soldiers. Tonight they were all on maneuvers or confined to barracks, it suited him perfectly.
Carlos wrapped his arms around the man, and allowed him to lead the way to his usual booth, right in the middle of the room. The raised back afforded him some privacy, whilst the position gave him a prime view of the stage, of Senorita Calenta who sung every Wednesday, Friday and Saturday night. Carlos took a seat in the plush leather booth and watched as Lieutenant Hant slid in the booth opposite him. "Are you hungry?" Pierre inquired.
"Yes, I want that lovely duck recipe your chef makes." Carlos requested. Pierre spoke the French name, but Carlos waved him off - their mutual language was English, trying to teach him French was a waste of time.
"He's been wanting some of that all week." joked Hant, who took a menu to make his choice. It was rare that Carlos could tolerate his subordinate's company enough to invite him to the Showrooms.
"And your company for the evening?" Pierre asked. He wasn't really bothered with Hant's choice in food, not that the man had chosen yet, Carlos had the temper.
"Is Colette in tonight?" Carlos asked. Colette was a 21 year old blonde, she was thin as a rake, but with large breasts and wide hips - a pornographic fantasy. She was also a very good actress, and had Carlos believing she enjoyed her time with him, meaning she could charge higher and higher rates for her services.
"No, tonight she is unwell - a cold - I'm afraid." Pierre apologised, angry he hadn't been more insistent with the young woman when she had phoned earlier.
"Chloe, then?" Carlos moved onwards.
Pierre had just watched Chloe walk off the most eastern podium with a rich businessman from Germany. Carlos may have had the temper, but this young man's clientele was much more valuable to him. "No, I am afraid she is indisposed."
Carlos sighed and reached into his pocket, he pulled out a cigar. One of Pierre's waiters leant forward and lit the cigar for him. He took a long drag before he removed it and spoke. "The English girl?"
"Edith returned home to continue her studies, Carlos." Pierre apologised. He glanced around him, Carla, Lolita, Sukie, Jing-May and Gretel were all dancing on podiums around him, easily accessible. He wished that Carlos would just chose one of them.
"Well what girls are working for you tonight then, Pierre?" Carlos growled. Across the table, Hant retreated into his cushion. "I will make my choice from them."
Pierre opened his mouth to name women, but Carlos barked him shut. "Never mind, I will make my choice from the single women here, surely there are some." Carlos grinned across at Hant. "I doubt there's a woman here who's mouth I haven't felt."
"Amongst other things." Hant commented. Carlos and Hant laughed together, Pierre just watched nervously - it looked like he would have to hire new staff, before the General's next visit.
"Leave me, get my duck." Carlos dismissed. Pierre shuffled away, leaving Hant, and his order with Carlos. The younger man would quite happily make a detour to the bar in order to place his order of food, and take his choice from one of Pierre's girls that was working tonight, he knew that Maria, a seventeen year old native was partial to Hant, and him to her, despite his oafishness and outwardly misogynist demeanor.
Carlos directed his attention at his current dinner companion, Hant, who began to fidget upon realising he was the object of his superior's perusal. Carlos suppressed a laugh, new recruits were one thing, but the company of Hant was not something he desired tonight, or any night. He was looking for a woman. "I finished that report you asked for on Private..."
Carlos cut him off. "Do not talk to me about work, not now, not here." He reprimanded, and allowed his eyes to wander. Hant had yet to make his order yet, and made excuses to go to the bar. Carlos watched him retreat away, and noticed a group of women seated at a table, not far from where Hant had progressed to the bar - they couldn't have been more than twenty- five years old, and tourists, local women didn't come in here unless they wanted to make a wage. Carlos headed to the bar, he would purchase drinks for all of them, and see which ones would bite.
Carlos had aged well. He was nearly fifty, but his career in the military had demanded physical fitness, at least for the first fifteen years, and he'd managed to keep it up to a reasonable level. He still took his boat out every Tuesday and dived into the water for a quick swim. Carlos had a mop of black hair and deep skin, and his accent had gotten him his fair share of 'local hospitality' when he'd toured with the Navy and then the Air force. He hadn't attempted to find a woman outside of Pierre's payroll in nearly a year now, but he was confident in his abilities.
Carlos waved a hand at the bartender as he approached the bar, the young man nodded - quickly passing a drink to a client and then moving over to Carlos, ignoring the cluster of clients that had settled around the till. "Get me a few bottles of Don Perignon for that table over there." He told the young man.
"Would you like me to bring it over?" he asked, his Spanish wasn't fluent, he formed a few words differently - Carlos guessed Italian or French.
"No, I will take them - two, perhaps a third." Carlos requested. The man wandered off to collect the bottles, climbing down into the cellar, and Carlos let his vision wander. Isabella Calenta was holding onto the tie of her pianist as she laid back on the piano.
"Are you going to drink all that yourself?" asked a voice behind him, female. Carlos turned, only to be greeted by the image of a young woman, perhaps thirty, dressed in red and black. She had short black hair, and soft blue eyes.
And the smile she wore on her face left no interpretation. "I might need some help." He replied, resting against the counter. The bartender opened the first bottle, eyeing the body language and understanding the odd word of their conversation. He reached under the counter for a second glass.
"That's good champagne, are you celebrating something?" The woman placed her hands on her hips, cocking one towards the champagne.
"Yes." Carlos took the two poured glasses, passing one to the young woman. She raised her eyebrows, and he answered her silent question. "Meeting you."
She laughed, giddily, almost as though she had had a little too much to drink already, and chinked her glass with his. She leant forward and placed a hand on his elbow, letting her shirt drop a little, revealing milky white cleavage.
Carlos brushed off the stool between them, and gestured with his hands for her to take a seat there, she obliged, slipping onto the stool and turning it a little so she faced him. Carlos leaned back against the bar whilst he sipped some of his champagne. "Have you been in Malaga long? Here on holiday?"
"I'm here for a week more - from LA." The woman replied, crossing her legs. She had yet to take a sip of her champagne. "Nina Archer." She told him, extending a hand halfway to his chest.
Carlos extended his own, "Carlos Batilla." They shook hands. He took the time to take in her body, he started at her waist and worked his way down and then took more stock as he reached her feet. She wore strappy black shoes, lovely legs, of which she bore a lot, the skirt she wore was making its way progressively up her thighs. She was leaning towards him, dropping her blouse a little, he could see her chest, down to the skin between her breasts. He found himself unconsciously leaning forwards.
Nina coughed, smiling widely at Carlos as she caught his attention again. "How's your champagne?" He asked her.
She took a quick, but long sip and swallowed it suddenly. "Lovely, thank you." She replied, she gulped and looked down at the floor for a second, scratching her ear.
Carlos searched for a topic of conversation that wasn't completely redundant. "Are you enjoying your stay?" He asked, coming up trumps. Nina laughed and placed a hand on his elbow again, rubbing at it with her thumb.
"Yes, its lovely - warm and sunny. I haven't seen much of the mountains yet, but..."
"I grew up in the mountains." Carlos commented. Nina leant forward, resting an elbow on the table and taking another sip of her drink. She raised an eyebrow.
"Really?"
Carlos nodded, turning to face her and placing an arm on her knee. She was obviously interested, but Carlos wondered if his chances with her were the same as his chances with the women at the table. Was she worth potentially loosing the chance of having two young women from the table? He sneaked a glance at them out of the corner of his eye...they weren't stunningly attractive, not like this one. "Yes, my father had a cabin up there, he worked in the city. He left every morning at five and returned after I'd gone to bed."
Nina smiled, "What about your mother?"
Carlos laughed, letting his thumb smooth around her knee. "She died when I was young, but I don't want to be thinking about my mother right now." The woman laughed, almost a cackle, and Carlos slid his hand further up her leg, wedging his thumb between them. "Join me at my booth." He said to her.
Nina nodded, and stood, accepting his hand to lead the way to his table. He carried one of the bottles he'd requested, leaving the other two, and his own glass to the table. Nina made sure to take hers with her. Carlos paused as he reached the table, letting Nina slide into the booth before he did.
Nina adjusted her skirt as she waited for him to take his seat, she took a moment to get a surreptitious glance at Jack, who was sitting down in front of another woman, one closer to the table than he had already. He looked over at Nina, giving no indication that he'd spotted her, but she had to hope he did. She had no intention of letting Carlos lead her further on than she wanted, it was make the switch and get out carefully, that was her plan.
She felt Carlos' hand on her thigh before she saw him put it down and she nearly jumped, she covered it with the most seductive smile she could muster, and glanced down at his hand.
Encouraged, Carlos bought his hand further up her thigh, deciding to test the limits of her restraint and her skirt, his palm landed on the end of the black material, leaving his fingers with free roam of her thigh. She laughed and collected his hand, bringing it back up to the table to play with his fingers. Carlos was not in the mood to be toyed with tonight, didn't want some frigid tourist leading him on.
He knew it was rude, but he was about to query her intentions when she spoke. "This is cold." She told him, and slid his gold onyx ring off his finger, placing it down on the table. She replaced his hand on her thigh, leaving it a little lower down than he had placed it.
Carlos objected "This was a gift from my father." He told her, gesturing with the ring in his free hand whilst his other hand rode up her thigh. He didn't want to waste any time with this woman, he wanted to know what she was willing to do to him tonight, and he wanted to know now, so he rotated his wrist and slid his fingers up her skirt, reaching several inches inside the shiny black fabric.
She gasped whilst he spoke, but had recovered enough to retort him at the end. "And I don't want to be thinking about your father right now." She responded, collecting her glass of champagne and taking a long sip.
Nina fingered his ring on the table for a minute, leaning back in her seat. Carlos swore her legs slid a little further apart as she did so, and took the opportunity, swapping hands to make himself more comfortable. He reached an arm around her back, rubbing her shoulder and drawing her closer to him. He kissed her, reaching as far into her mouth as he could and reaching his hand as far up her skirt as possible, she groaned into his mouth as he played with the fabric between her legs. He broke the kiss quickly. "Why don't we finish this some where else? Pierre has a number of rooms..." He raised his eyebrow at her, letting her read exactly what he wanted her to into his suggestion.
"Okay." She said, shakily and after a pause. She rose from the table, and Carlos stood too, leading the way away from the table, off to the same area that he had been to every night he'd visited here. All of a sudden Nina's hand pulled free and she darted back to the table.
Carlos turned back, confused, and watched as she returned to him. "Don't you want your ring?" She asked, handing it to him. Carlos slipped his ring back on his finger, he didn't car if she said it was cold - he'd soon make her forget it anyway - but he didn't want to put it in a pocket and forget it.
"Gracias." He replied, forgetting to speak English for a moment, he gave her a large grin and then tugged her towards the second exit to the club. One of the doorman opened the door for him and Carlos tugged her inside, ready to select a room for them.
Nina began to worry, the plan was that Jack was to intercept them, but she didn't expect to have been whisked off that quickly. When she'd rushed back to the table she'd told Jack she was nearly ready to go, and now she wasn't sure how she would get out, at least not without fucking Carlos - something she had no plans to do. The microphone was two way, but she couldn't say anything without Carlos noticing. Carlos led her up a flight of stairs. The building was three storeys tall and decorated in old style furnishings that almost matched the lobby, the same mahogany banisters and railing, but with green wall paper rather than the red outside. On the second floor Carlos opened the large door at the top of the stairs, leading the way inside the room, he still had a strong grip on her wrist and she didn't want to struggle, not unless she thought she could get away.
The door slammed behind them, and Nina glanced around the room, it was big, a large four poster bed in the middle of the door on her right, no curtains, just bare posts and a few tied net curtains, on the far side of the bed was a door, open, and leading to a bathroom. On her left were a few dressers and tall window, barely open, letting in the humid night air and sound of the town below. Carlos gave her a long revolting kiss before he wandered over to shut the window. "Make yourself at home." He instructed, wandering over to the bathroom. He shut the door, blocking out the bathroom light from the room.
Nina searched for a light switch in the dim streetlight, she eventually found one, whispering to Jack in her earpiece. "Where are you?"
"Where are you?" He asked back.
Nina rounded the bed and watched the door to the bathroom, terrified it would open at any second and she'd have to shut up. "Out the back, second floor, door at the top of the stairs." She whispered just as the door opened.
Carlos came out of the bathroom, sporting a wide smile on his face as Jack's voice came back over the earpiece. "I'm on my way." He told her, the radio buzzing in her ear.
Nina smiled back at Carlos as the man rounded the bed and reached out his hands for her. He took her hands and pulled her towards the bed, not kissing her until she nearly tripped over the mattress. Nina tried to think of a safe place to put her hands, she didn't want to edge him on, but she didn't want to slow him down too much in case he objected and she ended up trapped. She settled for putting them on his neck, whilst his freely roamed her body, eventually finding the side zipper on her dress and the tie on the straps at the back of her blouse. He managed to untie the top and partially unzip the skirt before she took a more active approach.
Nina pulled her lips away from his and pushed him backwards, causing him to land on the bed with a thump and a bit of a bounce, she settled herself on top of him, straddling his stomach and held his hands for a minute, playing the drunk to the best of her abilities, after a while Carlos began muttering her name and reaching for her clothing again so she moved onwards, trying to avoid the sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach and to ignore the prodding from his erection on her thigh.
Carlos laughed, throwing his head back, as she backed herself off of his hips and felt her hand enclose around his zipper - she may have been drunk but she was quite eager, for a woman rather than one of Pierre's whores, and after the longest unzipping these trousers had ever experienced, he felt his erection free from his trousers. Her hands tugged at his boxers, he longed for her to slip her hands inside them, and she, excruciatingly slowly, pulled his boxers down.
The door bursting open wasn't exactly the thing he was expecting to happen. Carlos yelled obscenities in his native tongue at the man in the doorway, a blonde in his mid thirties as he grappled with his fly. The man was calling the woman's name "Nina, what the fuck do you think you are doing?" He asked. The blonde man gripped the woman's forearm and pulled her off the bed. "Jesus! I leave you alone for a second."
Nina seemed stunned, she pulled her arm away from him and made a start back towards the bed, only to be grabbed by the wrist and jerked away. "Jack, I'm warning you..."
"We have one fight and you just find some nameless Spanish guy to shag? You are my wife, Nina!"
Carlos was stunned, he scrambled off the bed and stood on the other side of the woman, placing his hands on his hips and scowling. "You are married?" He asked, shocked - Carlos had never been amazed by the sanctity of marriage, but he had only had one spouse to his credit, and he had been young and in love at the time.
"I love you," Jack, the husband, ran a hand across his face. "I can't believe that one argument and....do you even know this guy...one argument, Nina - I love you!" He exclaimed, before heading to the door.
"Jack!" She called after him, repentant. Carlos knew he had to return to Pierre's floor, unsatisfied. Nina reached out for his arm and grabbed hold of it, stopping him at the end of the bed. "I'm sorry." She whispered, standing in his personal space in what should have been an embrace. "I'm so sorry."
Jack placed his hands on either side of his wife, resting them on her elbows. "What if we have more fights?" He asked her, his voice sounding tired and sad.
"What _if_ we have more fights?" She replied, leaning into him and kissing him.
Carlos watched the kiss, embarrassed, angry when he watched them break apart, eyes closed, they were obviously newlyweds, and reveling in the sensation of having the other close. "Let's get out of here." The husband said, before she led the way out of the room again.
Carlos flopped back onto the bed and stared up at the ceiling, at some point, someone had put the lights on, and he shut his eyes waiting for the green blur to pass. He wondered whether he should have left earlier, he could have let them have the room.
That was the first night Carlos Batilla left Pierre's showrooms without getting laid.
-24-