Voyeur

It didn’t work and after only a few shows, it became harder to focus. My hand dug into my pocket again and lifted out Oaklyn’s panties. God, I wanted to see her. I wanted to feast on her cunt, stuffing her panties in her mouth to muffle her cries of pleasure.

So, why didn’t I? Why didn’t I just go to Voyeur and see her?

Just because I knew what her mouth felt like around my cock, and I had more access to her now, didn’t mean I couldn’t go there and watch her anymore. Voyeur was my home away from home. I had friends there I’d known since I’d begun going five years ago. So, maybe she was working, it didn’t mean I couldn’t go have a drink. Maybe claim an hour with her. Maybe just claim her period so no one else could have her.

Decision made, I pulled out my phone and had to squint my eyes to focus on the Uber app. Only seven minutes away. I stood and had to wait a second before walking, letting the room stop spinning first. Then I finished the last of my drink and dropped it in the sink, ignoring the sound of glass breaking. Instead, I focused on grabbing my things and making it out the door.

Thankfully, the drive went quick and I was at the club before I knew it. Standing outside the door, I took a deep breath. I needed to look a hell of a lot more sober than I felt if I was going in. They had a strict two drink minimum and I was about five beyond that. I ended up making it past the entrance and all the way to the bar, but Charlotte was giving me knowing looks, so I asked for just a water.

Oaklyn wasn’t in the room. It didn’t stop me from scanning the crowd like she’d magically pop up somewhere. Maybe she was in the back grabbing some stock. Maybe she was in the employee lounge. Maybe she was in a room with Jackson as he fucked her from behind.

I squeezed my fist so hard around the glass, I was surprised it didn’t break. Blood pumped harder through me, pounding in my ears. With a shaking hand, I lifted the glass to take a sip, severely regretting not getting more alcohol.

I didn’t understand what was going on. How I still felt like I was on the edge of snapping when I’d had so much to drink. When I was at Voyeur. Those were two safeties to help me gain my control back, and there I sat, scanning the crowd like a lunatic as angry adrenaline flooded my veins.

I was a fucking mess.

Oaklyn

“Hello?” I answered my phone. I’d heard it ring just as I was about to head back out on the floor.

“Miss Derringer?” a man asked.

“This is a she.”

“Hi, this is Kyle from Tires, Tires, Tires. I was just calling you about your car.”

I wanted to scream finally, but settled on, “Yes?”

“It looks like your tie rod ends are going bad and will need to be replaced with a new rack and pinion,” he rattled off.

“I—I don’t know what that means? How much is that?” I tried to control my breathing, preparing for the cost, but a looming dread hung over me.

“It has to do with your steering and tires. Between parts and labor, it’s going to run you about a thousand dollars.”

I don’t know how I didn’t drop the phone as my whole body went numb, my heart dropping to the floor at the cost. Tears burned the backs of my eyes and I closed them, focusing on slowing down my heaving chest.

“Um—” my voice cracked, and I swallowed and tried again. “Okay. Okay.” My mind scrambled trying to think of dates my last school payment was due and how much money I already had set aside. “I guess just let me know when it will be ready for pick-up.”

“Sure thing. Sorry about your car.”

I wanted to snap at how aloof he sounded about something so devastating, but somehow I stayed as calm as possible and got off the phone.

“You okay, Oak?” Jackson asked when he came in, seeing me hunched over on the bench,

“No.” I wiped the tears that managed to leak free and explained my situation.

“Damn. That sucks. What are you going to do?”

“Save up more money and hope I can get it before my payment is due to the school. Possibly just not eat for the rest of the year,” I tried to joke.

Once I collected myself, I stood. I needed more money and that meant I needed to get back to work. Sitting in the back crying wasn’t going to get me anywhere.

“You can always do more partner work,” Jackson suggested, walking out with me.

“Yeah,” I said with no commitment. “I’ll figure something out.”