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girlfriend, another hovering nearby, blowing smoke out the back door. We pinballed through the room,
exiting through a narrow, dark hallway where we made a right, then a left, until we hit upon a small
office with a metal desk and a bleak bulb swinging overhead.
“Wow, you take me to the nicest places,” I said, a little tipsy from the attention and from the wine.
He shut the door behind us, sending a yellowed calendar crashing to the floor. And then Mark
Drury came at me slowly, hungrily. I moved back until I could feel the concrete wall behind me.
Reaching me, he placed one arm, then the other on either side of me.
“So it is you,” he said, peering into my face.
“What do you mean?”
“They gave me a name and a picture. I thought I recognized you. But I didn’t believe it until I
looked out into the crowd and saw you there. I’ve seen you at my shows,” he said, his perfect lips
inches from mine.
“You have?”
“Yeah. And I always go to find you after and you’re always gone. Then I saw you on the patio of
Ignatius’s a few months ago, but I got pulled into a conversation with someone else.”
“You mean with Cassie?” I said. “She’s … she’s a friend of mine.”
“Mine too,” he said. “Life’s funny, how things sort themselves out, don’t ya think?”
He was right. He was totally right. And I nodded. We could hear the next band cueing up on the
other side of the wall, their opening beats pulsing through my body and his hands.
“I’m supposed to take you to the Mansion,” he said, nuzzling my ear, smelling my hair. Oh god.
“We have a car waiting for us out back. But I’ve been wanting you all night. Knowing you were in the
crowd … knowing it was you. I don’t think I can wait.”
He smelled so good, a hint of apples, his breath warm, minty.
“May I?” He inched my jacket off my shoulders. “This too?”
I nodded as he began unbuttoning my blouse. As I stood there in my lavender camisole, he dragged
a palm across my clavicle, circling a breast, the pad of his thumb waking up a nipple through the silk.
He sweetly lifted the camisole up and over my head, then released my breasts from my bra.
“Fuck me,” he said, taking them both in his hands, kissing them and leaving a wet path from one
tense nipple to the other. He slipped a hand down the front of my leather pants, looking astonished to
discover how wet I was.
Sweet Jesus.
I couldn’t do anything but cover his mouth with a firm kiss that quickly turned ferocious. I melted
into him, his whole body pressing me against the wall.
“I’m going to make you scream,” he said, as I sighed at the feel of his mouth making its way down
the front of my body. On his knees before me, he peeled off my pants, and started with tender,
tentative licks, along my hip bones and over my belly button, coaxing my legs apart with his beautiful
face, his talented tongue. Lifting one of my thighs, he buried his face in my cleft, nearly toppling me
over before I found footing on a nearby chair. I was pinned against the cool cement wall of Tipitina’s,
by Mark Drury! I looked down as his tireless teasing found my clit and he swirled it inside his warm
mouth like found treasure. My hips cocked forward as his tongue circled and flicked, his fingers
darting in and out and taking me right to the edge of my senses, parting me more, and more, until his
whole mouth owned the very center of me.
Then I felt it, the hot rush that pulled me under as I came—quickly, loudly, fully—heavy waves
crashing over me, my fingers raking his hair. “Oh god, oh god, oh god, Mark” was all I could say,
until I finally, completely, wilted over his body. He rose slowly and kissed his way back up to my