Sin City: All Night And Every Day

Nancy didn’t notice he was there. He snuck up on her. She was grabbing a shot at the bar, keeping her mood up for another set, and then Walker was there. Behind her. His arms wrapped around her slender body, muscles big and hard and powerful, seeming like a beast’s inside the cold hide of his leather jacket, and his beard scratched her neck a little as his lips delighted her by stealing a kiss.

“Did you miss me?” Walker’s voice was rough, strong as the whiskey they served here, and so masculine it reminded Nancy of how crazy this was. He was a guy; if she let him grope her like this, right on the barfloor, everyone would think they could get away with it. Or that he was her guy, and she was the exact amount of unattainable right now. She didn’t need all these droolers thinking she was taken too—just out of their league.

“Nooo,” Nancy moaned, wanting to punish him now for tempting her this way, making her wish he would just ravage her on top of the bar like a slut who’d had too many, when all she’d taken was one shot and the feeling of him.

It was intoxicating—his lingering presence—how had he cloaked it from her? It seemed to be pouring in now that he’d revealed himself, lighting up her senses and stealing away her reason.

“Liar,” he growled in her ear.

“I didn’t miss you at all,” Nancy whined, kittenish… how could she not feel little when he was so big, so adult, manhandling her like she was nothing but a girl? “You’re mean.”

“How am I mean?”

“You stayed away for so long. And you didn’t even tell me you were going to be going away. And I don’t like it when you touch me, your hands are—”

His hands were on her belly, exposed by the bra top she wore, touch sweeping along her abs with airy pleasance for such callused fingers. Nancy wasn’t used to being touched so delicately; most people drunk enough to touch her, who dared to risk the wrath of the bouncers, were too wild for anything but a grope at her breasts or butt.

Walker seemed to be feeling her skin. Enjoying the sheer touch of her—dropping sensuousness down into her core, where she could do nothing to dispel it without rubbing together her leather clad thighs.

The temptation to do so was overwhelming. She halfway wanted him to run his hand down under her leather pants, make it so the silky panties she wore underneath weren’t just for her, they were a sweetness to him too.

“You don’t like it when I touch you?” Walker mewled, his voice sardonic, miming that he was hurt.

His forefinger explored her belly button. Nancy wanted to squeak.

He was penetrating her, in some small way… playing with her belly ring… it seemed to become more than just some kicky jewelry with him touching it, it was a reminder of how bravely she’d endured being pierced. How she’d liked that pain, marking her as a woman, not a child who couldn’t take being hurt.

How could he bring it all storming back with just a touch, his lips at her ear, his breathing pulling her scent into his lungs and his body thrumming with how he enjoyed her nearness?

“Uh-uh,” Nancy said, feeling childish in her weak denial when his closeness was making her feel so womanly. “I don’t like being touched by mean men. I like nice guys, sweet guys…”

“Want me to be sweet to you?”

Nancy shook her head fiercely, making her silk-fine hair splash about her cheeks until Walker took her by the chin and stilled her. She was a sitting duck now. Her face grew hot with his lips near her cheek, tingling, waiting for the feel of his neat beard that would be her only warning of the kiss she dreaded and wanted… didn’t know which she was feeling more, dread or want.

“Maybe I don’t like you anymore. Maybe you should’ve been nicer to me. Maybe you shouldn’t have left and made me miss you until I didn’t miss you anymore, which I don’t, I don’t miss you now and I wish you’d stayed gone. I…”

She broke off, not wanting to interrupt him when he bit her ear. His teeth were so close to it, brimming over with pleasure to give her, and she’d felt a little of his stubble just on the lobe.

“Sounds like I need to start making it up to you. Apologize like the sweet guy I am. Before you’ll let me start being good to you again.”

Again, Nancy was short of words… nothing coming to mind except things facile and small. “Uh-huh,” she agreed, and still not thinking of anything to say, she moved her hands to his hands and forced him to take them off her body.

He didn’t fight. He moved his fingers cleverly, interlocking them with hers, and Nancy gasped to suddenly be holding hands with him. Then his nose was in her hair, smelling her, and she could feel his delight in it thrumming through his body like she was standing next to a high-voltage wire.

“I wish you wouldn’t wear this wig,” Walker breathed. “It doesn’t smell like you. Not nearly enough. Kadie’s doesn’t water down her drinks—she knows they’d riot over it—so why does she water down you?”

“I look good as a blonde,” Nancy replied helplessly. Then, desperate to please: “I could dye my hair.”

“Chemicals,” Walker said in a disgusted tone. “Shampoo is bad enough…”

“I’ve been using that shampoo you bought me. And the soap.”

“I know you have. They’re much nicer than what you used to wear. And you’re much nicer now that you let me be sweet to you.” He let go of her hands, petted her wrists.

Nancy felt so different from how she normally was here: an assemblage of parts, tits and ass thrust at paying customers, a faceless void they had to put up with to get to the things they wanted.

With Walker, everything was valuable, treasured. It felt like he’d delight in her if she was no more than a few fingers, a tuft of hair… and also like his greed for her was supreme, that he wished for everything of her. Down to her bones, down to her marrow, down to the stupid faces she made when she sang in the shower.

“I shouldn’t have gotten you those things. The earrings, the perfume, any of it. You used to be a diamond in the rough. Now you’re too perfect, too… glorious. I can’t resist you. I have to have you. Dance for me.”

“I’m about to dance for everyone, buddy. You don’t need to splurge on me. You can sit right up next to the stage, I’ll clear you a spot…”

“No.” Nancy had felt childish shaking her head, but the curt jerk Walker gave seemed so adult as to be dangerous. It was like the kind of gesture a king would make to have someone’s head cut off. “No one else watching. Just me.”

“And who’s going to tip me, guy?”

His hand moved in front of her face and for a moment, Nancy thought he could cup her chin, hold her still, force a kiss on her that would destroy her resistance by taking away any illusions that being with him wouldn’t be pure pleasure.

But instead, his fingers twitched and like a magician’s card trick, a hundred-dollar bill appeared in his hand.

“As I said. Just me.”

Nancy felt herself faltering. She knew she’d caught a whale… she’d always known it… Walker carried himself too hard not to be the kind of man with a fat wallet, who ended up with a fat wallet no matter what his circumstances.

Not like the other losers who came here. A lotto winner could blow a fortune on her, it meant nothing. But with Walker, she had a calm certainty that he’d just come back with another fortune.

Whatever shadows he had to walk through to get it.

“I can make more than that,” she said weakly.

“It’s not for the whole dance. It’s just for taking us somewhere we can be alone. And for letting me disarm you.”

“Disarm me?” Nancy’s head felt fuzzy. Like she was drunk. Like she’d overdosed on this man’s cologne and his proximity and the feels she shouldn’t have been letting him get of her and now there was no making her way back to being the clear, cool-headed woman you needed to be to work in Kadee’s, taking money away from people this tough.

But did it matter, when the only person she was with was Walker? She didn’t need her guard up with him. She only needed to dance.

Nancy wasn’t wearing much. Next to nothing, in fact. Leather pants with tassels down the side. A bra and arm warmers, both leather, both with tassels. And a concho belt with holsters for the two prop pistols she had for her act and her lasso.

Walker took the lasso from her. He scarfed it around her neck for safekeeping. Then he undid her belt buckle and tore it away from her tight little waist.

With so little covering her already, losing any of it made Nancy feel like she was in a romance novel, having her bodice ripped open. No protection from all the sensuality Walker was radiating and she was suddenly aware of a boiling tension at her core, a cacophony of feelings just waiting to be felt, and the sharp fast gasp she loosed was almost one of orgasm.

She shut her eyes to enjoy it… then opened them slowly, realizing how close she was, that it would take so little—maybe just pressing up against Walker’s warm body—to bring her to the final sensation and completely give herself over to him, surrendering as she only could to a man like this.

Then she remembered she was in the middle of the haze of cigarette smoke that was Kadee’s Saloon, surrounded by drunks and worse, predators looking for someone to roll…

Only, as she glanced around frantically, none of them were looking at her. It was as if they were all repulsed by Walker’s animal magnetism, wary of drawing his ire. The king of the jungle had caught his prey and none of them dared to try and take from what was his kill alone.

It was an honor, in a way, to fall to someone like that.

Still with a heady sensation and feeling the almostness of her climax throbbing away at the junction of her thighs, Nancy took the lasso from around her neck and numbly let it dangle from her hand as she led Walker to a private room.

The other girls accepted thick stacks from their loyal fans in exchange for an hour of pleasure there; Nancy had never gone there before. Not for all the whiskey in Ireland, she used to say.

But Walker wasn’t offering her whiskey. He was offering her the pleasure inside herself that Nancy hadn’t known was there.

They passed an overflowing trashcan. Nancy thought of dropping the lasso in it. She didn’t feel like pretending anymore that she was the one that did the roping here.