Double Dare

By: Cassandra Dee



And Mr. Dorky bent over, gasping like a fish out of water. Like a lot of guys in the city, the loser looked okay on the outside, reasonably fit and tall. But it was all an illusion. The expensive suit hid a flabby body, muscles wasting away underneath, and when my fist made contact, that stomach was doughy and soft. Immediately, the smaller man keeled over, clutching at his middle.

“You hit me!” he squealed, eyes watering. “You hit me!”

I stepped back, breathing hard.

“You attacked me,” I said disbelieving. “You attacked me first.”

Okay we were starting to sound like kindergarteners and the beautiful barista stepped in then.

“Come on guys,” she said breathlessly, small hands waving. “This is all over a pastry, which is crazy. How about if I comp both you guys?” she asked, trying to take charge. “Two coffees and bear claws on the house today.”

But the guy in front of me was a complete lunatic because he launched himself at me again least when I was expecting it, a blur of shoulders, arms, and grappling fists. But unfortunately, Katie was in the way this time, bearing the brunt of the attack.

“Unnph!” she huffed, thumping to the ground. I could see those generous curves squashed beneath the other man’s form, and something rose in me, primitive and animalistic, welling up like a red wave.

“Get the fuck off her,” I raged, grabbing the dude’s arm with one hand, his leg with the other. “Get the fuck off her, she doesn’t belong to you.”

And with that, I literally tossed him aside like he weighed nothing, a limp buoy bobbing in the ocean. He landed in a sprawl, a jangly mass of arms and legs, but did I give a fuck? No, all I cared was that my beautiful brunette was good, curves ripe and intact.

“You okay?” I asked, helping her up. “That guy,” I said, shooting the loser a grim scowl, “is some kind of crazy.”

Katie brushed her apron off, looking stunned.

“I’m fine,” she panted slightly, eyes wide, boobies heaving. “I’m fine.”

And with that, the other dude finally got up, looking worse for the wear.

“Both of you will pay!” he squealed. “I’m a guy with cancer and this is all on video!” he said, gesturing to the camera mounted in the corner. “This is all on HDTV!” he screamed again, before fleeing out the door.

The brunette and I turned to look at one another again.

“I’m so sorry sir,” she stammered, looking down at my rumpled suit. “I think he was high,” she ventured as an explanation.

I laughed, throwing my head back, showing off even white teeth.

“High on what?” I asked rhetorically. “Ritalin? Some ADD drug? That guy was just plain crazy, it wouldn’t matter what he snorted. This is New York City,” I shrugged, a gleam in my eye. “Shit happens every day, all day.”

At that the brunette shot me a quick smile.

“I’m so glad you understand,” she said. “I’m Katie by the way,” she murmured, thrusting a hand out. “Thanks for getting that guy off me.”

I already knew her name from the metal nametag pertly pinned above one big breast. But something about my intent look made her flush.

“What?” she whispered, lips trembling. “What is it?”

I grunted.

“Sweetheart,” I said slowly. “You’ve got a pretty bad cut on your forehead, did you know that?”

“Where?” the brunette asked, fingers automatically going up to touch her head. “I didn’t notice, things happened so fast,” she said, feeling around.

But I stopped her hand.

“It’s pretty bad,” I said, grabbing her wrist. “It’s all in your hair, we better take you to the emergency room.”

“No, no, I’m fine,” she said quickly, still trying to feel around in those brown curls. “I’ll be fine,” she repeated. “I’m the only one on shift this early in the morning and no one else comes in until noon. I’ll be fiiii…” Her words dropped off because the girl’s eyes drifted shut slowly, and if I hadn’t caught her just then, the ripe female would have slid to the floor.

“Fine, hmmm?” I growled, looking at the little girl in my arms, that plump form dead to the world. “Totally fine, hmm?”

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