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Creed's Credo
folder
X-men Comics › Threesomes/Moresomes
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
14
Views:
4,532
Reviews:
8
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
X-men Comics › Threesomes/Moresomes
Rating:
Adult +
Chapters:
14
Views:
4,532
Reviews:
8
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
I do not own the X-Men or the characters herein. The only ones I do own will be the characters that are not in the comics. I write these stories for my own twisted pleasure and relief and make no money from this. Please do not sue.
Out in the Open
“Table seven wants you again.” Shirley followed the path of Sally’s finger as she pointed to the back of the bar. She shivered as her customer raised his glass in a gesture easily accepted that he wanted a refill.
He wasn’t much different than the usual clientele that this place attracted. Harry’s was everyone’s favorite watering hole, but the overflow came here and still drank even after the barkeep gave last call. Every hour was happy hour. No one cared that the drinks were watered down as long as they flowed all night.
This one was one tough customer. In any other setting, Shirl would have noticed how handsome he was in a rugged way; he wasn’t model pretty by any means, but you could rely on him to get your juices flowing, y’know?
But here, in the back of the darkened bar, at the table surrounded by six empties, he unsettled her. Hungry, hard eyes sized her up as she tucked her tray under her arms and pulled the pencil from behind her ear. Her knees shook slightly as she approached, but she couldn’t say why.
His voice was a rusty drawl that seemed to lick her all over. “Don’t be shy, darlin’. Gonna leave me high an’ dry?”
“Uh-uh. What’ll ya have, another of the same?”
“Ya know what I want,” he agreed as he slid the glass toward the edge of the table. She reached for it, wary about leaning in too close.
His hand shot out and snapped itself around her wrist. “OH!”
Her heartbeat skipped; he enjoyed her thundering pulse, if his sly look was any indication, as well as the hectic flush that crept over her cheeks.
“L-let me g-go get that for you,” she stammered, offering him a smile that made her face ache.
He didn’t let her go. “Anyone ever tell ya how nice ya smell?”
“Er…no. Not really, no.”
“Real sweet. Tasty. Ain’t all covered up in fancy perfume an’ shit.”
Belatedly she realized that the tables around him were empty because everyone in the bar felt the same uneasy vibe. His grip had gentled slightly, but it clamped more tightly around her every time she tried to slip free. He was toying with her.
“Am I keepin’ ya from somethin’, darlin’?”
“N-no. I-I just wanted to get you your drink. I, um, have to run unpack another case of this stuff.” It wasn’t a total lie; he’d drunk his way through a whole bottle of Sauza so far, and the remaining two behind the bar were running low.
That seemed to satisfy him. His smile never faltered; if anything, it became more smug.
“Sure, darlin’. G’wan ahead and do what ya gotta do. I’ll still be here.”
That worried her.
*
“Why we here, if he’s down de street, mec?”
“We watch. We wait.”
“Ain’ much of a plan.”
“He has ta marinate himself in a few shots first. Get his mojo flowin’. Then he flushes his mark out into the open.”
“What if he decides he’s bored wit’ more of de same?”
“He never gets bored of this shit.”
Remy lit up a Lucky Strike and sighed as Logan ordered another shot of Jack. Harry’s was one of the only bars in town who bent the anti-smoking ordinance, but Logan and Remy still hovered in the back, close to the exit.
“So we gonna wait ‘im out here, instead o’ headin’ over dere and minglin’ wit’ de crowd?”
Logan tapped his nose. “What d’you think?”
“Neh. Right. Desole, padnat.”
“Ya ain’t drinkin’ anything?”
“Non. Need ta stay quick, mec.” Normally Remy had no qualms about a drink even before a mission, even if it was just a sip. But he needed every brain cell intact and every second of speed to handle Vic. This was an old, familiar enemy.
And ironically, a man he and Logan each once called friend.
He wasn’t much different than the usual clientele that this place attracted. Harry’s was everyone’s favorite watering hole, but the overflow came here and still drank even after the barkeep gave last call. Every hour was happy hour. No one cared that the drinks were watered down as long as they flowed all night.
This one was one tough customer. In any other setting, Shirl would have noticed how handsome he was in a rugged way; he wasn’t model pretty by any means, but you could rely on him to get your juices flowing, y’know?
But here, in the back of the darkened bar, at the table surrounded by six empties, he unsettled her. Hungry, hard eyes sized her up as she tucked her tray under her arms and pulled the pencil from behind her ear. Her knees shook slightly as she approached, but she couldn’t say why.
His voice was a rusty drawl that seemed to lick her all over. “Don’t be shy, darlin’. Gonna leave me high an’ dry?”
“Uh-uh. What’ll ya have, another of the same?”
“Ya know what I want,” he agreed as he slid the glass toward the edge of the table. She reached for it, wary about leaning in too close.
His hand shot out and snapped itself around her wrist. “OH!”
Her heartbeat skipped; he enjoyed her thundering pulse, if his sly look was any indication, as well as the hectic flush that crept over her cheeks.
“L-let me g-go get that for you,” she stammered, offering him a smile that made her face ache.
He didn’t let her go. “Anyone ever tell ya how nice ya smell?”
“Er…no. Not really, no.”
“Real sweet. Tasty. Ain’t all covered up in fancy perfume an’ shit.”
Belatedly she realized that the tables around him were empty because everyone in the bar felt the same uneasy vibe. His grip had gentled slightly, but it clamped more tightly around her every time she tried to slip free. He was toying with her.
“Am I keepin’ ya from somethin’, darlin’?”
“N-no. I-I just wanted to get you your drink. I, um, have to run unpack another case of this stuff.” It wasn’t a total lie; he’d drunk his way through a whole bottle of Sauza so far, and the remaining two behind the bar were running low.
That seemed to satisfy him. His smile never faltered; if anything, it became more smug.
“Sure, darlin’. G’wan ahead and do what ya gotta do. I’ll still be here.”
That worried her.
*
“Why we here, if he’s down de street, mec?”
“We watch. We wait.”
“Ain’ much of a plan.”
“He has ta marinate himself in a few shots first. Get his mojo flowin’. Then he flushes his mark out into the open.”
“What if he decides he’s bored wit’ more of de same?”
“He never gets bored of this shit.”
Remy lit up a Lucky Strike and sighed as Logan ordered another shot of Jack. Harry’s was one of the only bars in town who bent the anti-smoking ordinance, but Logan and Remy still hovered in the back, close to the exit.
“So we gonna wait ‘im out here, instead o’ headin’ over dere and minglin’ wit’ de crowd?”
Logan tapped his nose. “What d’you think?”
“Neh. Right. Desole, padnat.”
“Ya ain’t drinkin’ anything?”
“Non. Need ta stay quick, mec.” Normally Remy had no qualms about a drink even before a mission, even if it was just a sip. But he needed every brain cell intact and every second of speed to handle Vic. This was an old, familiar enemy.
And ironically, a man he and Logan each once called friend.