"Don't worry about our girl, Carter. She went a good ten rounds before she tapped out," Jim said with a laugh. “And you’ll be happy to know I got it all on video.”
“Was there Jell-O? Tell me there was Jell-O?” Drew asked excitedly.
My shift ended a few hours after that and I desperately needed a drink after tonight's events. I threw my apron behind the bar and everyone moved back to a large table so we could all sit together. After we sat down at the table, Carter told us what happened outside. Tasha claimed that she made a huge mistake and she wanted Carter back. He laughed in her face and told her to take her crab-infested vagina back to Toledo. He also informed her that he had always wanted me, even when he was with her and now that he found me, he was never letting me go.
Cue the applause.
I lost track of how many drinks I consumed the rest of the night. Every time I set my empty glass down it was magically refilled. I think Carter knew I was stressed about the Tasha situation and wanted me to just relax and have a good evening.
Or he wanted to get me drunk and take advantage of me.
My lady bits started jumping up and down, clapping her hands and screaming, "Yes please!"
I kept looking towards the door expecting Tasha to come charging back in. After a while though, I didn't know which door she would come through since there were at least thirty of them when I looked in that direction.
I glanced down into my glass, trying to count the ice cubes and lost track after one.
Wow, what did they put in this vodka?
Carter kept looking over at me and smiling and it took everything in me not to straddle his lap. I really wanted to make some sort of move, but I didn't know the first thing about that crap. My hand was on his thigh and I slowly moved it upwards. I stopped just a few inches below the bulge I couldn't stop staring at. I want to rub my vagina all over that shit.
Yes, I was aware that I was sitting here at a table full of people, just staring down in Carter’s lap like it was a desert oasis and I hadn't sipped water in months.
I thought about things I could whisper in his ear that might turn him on.
"We should have the sex."
Carter laughed and kissed my cheek.
"I thought that out loud didn't I?"
"Yes, you definitely thought that out loud," he said with a smile.
I turned away from him and grabbed Liz’s arm, pulling her up with me.
"Be right back," I mumbled to the table in general.
I pulled Liz over to the bar, about ten feet away from the table.
"I don't know how to sex," I complained.
"Um, what?" Liz asked.
"I mean, sexy. I don't know how to sexy."
Liz laughed.
"You mean you don't know how to be sexy?"
I just nodded. Liz got me. My best friend was the best ever. She was so pretty and nice and pretty.
"Hon, you're doing just fine. In case you hadn't noticed, Carter hasn't been able to keep his hands off of you all night. And you couldn't see it, but when you put your hand on his leg, he kept swallowing and staring off into space like he was trying not to jizz in his pants."
I was starting to panic. Which was probably the booze talking but so what? I didn't know the first thing about seducing a guy. I was going to make a total fool of myself.
"You're seriously freaked out about this?" Liz asked, all traces of humor gone from her face when she saw how worried I was.
“I feel like I’m going to puke I’m so nervous.”
Liz sighed. "Claire, you're a hot bitch. You could stand there and do nothing and he'd still want to hump your leg. You just need some confidence. Repeat after me, "I am a dirty, dirty slut."
Liz stood there with her hands on her hips waiting for me to comply. I looked back nervously at Carter but he was deep in conversation with Drew.
"This is ridiculous," I complained.
"What's ridiculous is that you don't think you can be slutty. Do you honestly think I would be friends with you if I thought there wasn't a dirty whore lurking in there somewhere? Give me a little credit please. You are the quintessential lady in the streets, freak in the sheets."
“You need to stop quoting Urban Dictionary,” I told her.
Carter had probably been with lots of women. Women who could suck a golf ball through a garden hose and dance on a pole. Liz meant well, but I just didn't know if I could pull this off.
"You're starting to piss me off. Just say it. I am a dirty, dirty slut."
I rolled my eyes. I might as well do what she says or she'll never let it go.
"I'm a dirty, dirty slut," I mumbled quietly.
Well, that did feel a little good saying it out loud. Maybe Liz was on to something.
"Come on dirty girl, you can do better than that. Do it again, and put your vagina into it," Liz encouraged.
I took a deep breath and said it a little louder. Thank God there was music playing and people talking.
"Wow, did you see that?" Liz asked. "Carter’s disco stick just shriveled up and died. You suck at this, and not in a good way. Again!"
I clenched my fists at my sides and my breathing sped up. I could be a dirty slut; I could be dirtier than a hooker at a gang-bang.
Okay, maybe not that dirty.
I took in a big gulp of air and let out all of my nerves, all of my anxiety and all of my irrational fears with one sentence.
"I AM A DIRTY, DIRTY SLUT!"
