Soul Possession(24)

“But we’re cute crazy,” Kirsten said with a grin.

She held up her shot glass, clinked it against Jessie’s, and then both of them put the rim to their mouths and tipped back their heads at the same time.

It was like swallowing fire.

Jessie came back wheezing, her eyes watering. Around them applause broke out and it was then she realized that she and Kirsten had an audience.

“Shit,” she muttered.

Kirsten shrugged. “Let’s give them a show.”

Chants of “Drink, drink, drink” filled the air and Jessie reached for the second shot. A moment later it felt like the lining was stripped from her esophagus but the alcohol was down and swimming around her stomach.

“One more and then let’s dance,” Kirsten said. She thumbed in the direction of the band that was returning from break.

By now Jessie couldn’t remember what her original complaint had been but she was game for some dancing. It had been a while and she could shake her ass with the best of them.

They toasted again, slogged down the shot, and then Kirsten hollered to the bartender. “Get us another set up. We’ll be back after this song!”

She grabbed Jessie’s arm and dragged her to the dance floor just as the first chords blared over their eardrums.

Within moments they had a crowd around them, a mixture of guys and girls. Jessie let the music and rhythm roll through her body, already loosened by the alcohol. She closed her eyes and let the rush of exhilaration flood her chest.

Relief. Bone-melting relief. Freedom from the fear that had permeated the very air around her for the last few days.

She and Kirsten whooped it up, together and separately. It was probably well established that they were lesbians with the way they bumped and ground all over each other. The shouted “I love you”s also might have done the trick, but none of the guys seemed to mind. The more exuberant she and Kirsten got, the more guys flocked to the dance floor.

When the long set was over, Kirsten dragged her toward the bar where their drinks waited.

“Okay, let’s do this again,” Kirsten shouted over the music. “Then we dance.”

“If I don’t puke first!”

By now a few others had joined in the shotfest and the bartender lined up an entire row of Patrón. Eager hands grabbed the glasses, and after a raucous count of three, they began downing them one after another.

“Do you see what I see?” Rick muttered as he and Truitt stood in the doorway of the pub.

Truitt’s eyes narrowed as he zeroed in on the bar where Jessie stood with a crowd around her. She was rapidly downing shots along with another woman about her age.

“Yeah, I see.”

“What the ever-loving hell is she doing?”

“Looks like she’s getting drunk,” Truitt said dryly.

Before they could move in the direction of the bar, the woman with Jessie slammed down her glass and then took Jessie’s hand and dragged her onto the dance floor.

What followed left Truitt’s tongue hanging down and his pants uncomfortably tight. The woman moved like a dream, all curves and softness, undulating in rhythm to the music.

Her br**sts were plumped up—had to be one of those Wonderbra contraptions—and nearly spilling out of the top she wore. Or didn’t wear. Hell, it was hard to tell from here whether she was more into the shirt or more out of it.

But what really set his teeth on edge was the number of men surrounding Jessie, all trying to touch her and get up in her space.

“She’s wasted,” Rick growled.

“Oh, you think?”

“Well, we can’t barge in and flash our badges. After her experiences with the police this week, she’d never speak to us again. Which means we’re just going to have to pretend we’re her pissed-off boyfriends and wade in to drag her off.”

“Uhm, there might be a problem with that,” Truitt pointed out. “It would appear she’s here with her friend. I didn’t see Jessie’s car in the parking lot. Which means we’re going to have to take both of them.”

“Whose boyfriend are you going to be?” Rick drawled.

Truitt scowled. “I’ll take Jessie. You take the other one.”

“She’s not bad,” Rick said. “She’s not Jessie, but she’s a looker. If I hadn’t seen Jessie first, I’d absolutely do her.”

Truitt rolled his eyes. “Come on. I can’t stand this a minute longer. There’s no telling how long they’ve been at it.”

They waded through the crowd, Truitt scowling at people who seemed all too willing to give him and Rick a wide berth. When they reached the women, they were sort of squatting, Jessie’s back and ass nestled against her friend’s chest and groin, and they bobbled up and down looking for all the world like they were putting on an erotic peep show.

At least Truitt understood why they’d drawn such a crowd now.

Truitt stood there, waiting for Jessie to see him and Rick. He planted his feet and crossed his arms over his chest. Some of the crowd had moved back to widen the perimeter so that it now encompassed him and Rick. And they all looked on with avid interest like they were sure the fireworks were about to start.

When Jessie and her friend did finally turn, their reactions were nothing short of amusing. Jessie halted abruptly, her eyes wide. Beside her, the friend also stopped and she stared boldly, raking her gaze up and down his body until he felt a might embarrassed.