R. Griffin - Seamless

“Every fucking morning I wake up without you in my bed it causes fissures in my heart, Love. I have little cracks and holes in my heart because we’re apart.”

Stella pulled him closer, her hands around his neck and his words warming her heart. “I can’t get close enough to you.”

George kissed her bottom lip, pulling it into his mouth slowly. Stella was lost in the moment until she heard Millie’s voice next to her.

“Get a room!” she called with a giggle, bumping her shoulder against Stella’s.

Stella chuckled and separated herself from George, but didn’t take her eyes from those green flecks.

“So, I wanna dansh with the reporter,” Millie said, slurring her words a little.

Stella pulled her eyes from George and looked at Millie, surprised. “How much porn have you had?”

“I love porn so much right now.” Millie giggled.

George reached out and steadied her, laughing as Millie slumped against him in a drunken attempt at slow dancing.

“I guess that means we’re dancing,” Patrick said from behind Millie’s shoulder.

“Well don’t act too fucking excited about it,” Stella responded.

Patrick pulled Stella roughly into his arms and nodded at George. “Watch your hands, man,” he warned with a laugh.

“Got it,” George answered, laughing, and raised his hands to show his innocence.

Stella draped her left hand over Patrick’s shoulder and put her right hand carefully into his, which looked enormous wrapped around hers.

“You got your cast off already?” Patrick asked. “You still have pain?”

Stella shrugged. “It’s fine.”

“What’d the doctor say?”

“Everything was fine,” Stella said, looking to the band. “Things good?”

“Yep,” Patrick whispered.

Stella looked at Millie swaying unevenly in George’s arms. “Are you trying to get her drunk?”

Patrick seemed irritated. “Nope, she’s doing that all on her own.”

“You guys okay?” Stella asked.

“I guess.” Patrick shrugged. “Why wouldn’t we be?”

“Why’re you so fucking sour? Have some drinks and get that fucking face off your face.”

His eyebrows rose, amused. “Get my face off my face?”

“Yes, your face is a downer and this is a party.” Stella nodded firmly. “You’d tell me if you and Millie were having issues, right?”

He looked everywhere but her face. What was going on?

“Patrick…” She’d been so wrapped up in her shit, she hadn’t realized they were going through something. She was a horrible friend.

“What? We’re fine.” He turned them around so that he was facing the Potomac River. “What’s your status with our little project?”

“Good, I have a date.” The alcohol coursing through her made her feel less; she liked it. Too much.

“Good.” He nodded once and twirled her to the music.

She hung onto his arms so she wouldn’t lose her footing. She could always count on him to keep her feet steady.

“I called a car service,” George announced as he killed the remains of his beer.

The reception had been going on for hours and Millie was fading fast after drinking way too much.

“We know,” laughed Stella. “You told us that before.”

“Coooool,” Millie slurred.

“Let’s go to Camelot,” Stella suggested, giggling hysterically.

Patrick and George looked at each other and smiled. This was too good of an opportunity to pass up.

“Seriously?” George asked.

“Sure!” Stella was drunk as shit. She hadn’t had this much to drink in years—well, maybe in Key West, and Millie would agree to anything at this point. “I wanna buy Millie a lap dance.”

This time Patrick responded. “Seriously?” he echoed George, looking back and forth between the girls.

Stella and Millie’s arms were draped over each other and they were giggling uncontrollably.

Millie gyrated her hips so obnoxiously Patrick almost spit out the last of his beer. “Hell, yeah. Lap dances all around!”

The boys high-fived and Patrick almost ran to get all of their coats so they could leave immediately.

After a forty-five minute ride in a Town Car, they were walking down the block to the strip club. Millie was leading the way, talking animatedly about Billy’s new girlfriend.

“Millie, come walk with me,” Patrick directed calmly.

Millie continued to walk ahead, animatedly turning back and forth to talk to them. All of a sudden, Stella saw Millie fly through the air like a cartoon character. Millie’s dress was black, short and chiffon; it flew up as her face stopped her fall, her black lace panties in stark contrast to her white skin. She’d tripped over uneven pavement in the sidewalk and fell face-first onto the concrete. Millie didn’t even put her hands down to break her own fall. Too much porn. She was splayed out on the sidewalk, her dress flipped up and showing everyone her very firm ass barely covered in lace.

“Oh my shit, Mil!” Stella bent down to make sure she was okay.

Patrick lifted her from the sidewalk to a standing position by the back of her dress. Millie had scraped her chin and face on the concrete; she was bleeding. She was so drunk her reaction time was so slow that she wasn’t able to brace herself against the fall. Her knees and both hands were bleeding as well. Millie unconsciously wiped her bleeding hands on her dress, which only reached to mid-thigh and now had lines of blood down the sides.

“Am I okay?” she inquired, stunned.

Stella stifled a laugh. “No, you’re bleeding.”

“You’re fine,” Patrick assured her.

“My face hurts. Is my face bleeding?” Millie asked.

“Yes,” Stella answered.

“You’re fine, babe,” Patrick said, “just hold onto my hand and walk with me.” He shook his head in amusement at George.

George paid the cover for all of them. The strip club was dark and music pulsed through the room. There were several side stages and one main stage where a woman in a white thong with enormous fake breasts was gyrating slowly. Once they walked in, George took Stella’s hand and pulled her to him.

“I need ice for my knees,” Millie whined.

“We’ll get you some, Grace,” Stella assured her with a grin, “don’t worry.”

Patrick and Millie followed them over to the table in the corner with a good view of the stage. A woman with dark curls cascading down her back emerged from the back. She wore a bright, lime green thong bikini bottom and bustier with mile-high clear heels.

“I’ll go grab some ice and drinks.” Stella kissed George as he sat down. “Don’t get a lap dance without me.”

Stella made her way up to the bar. The female bartender walked over to her and looked her up and down. “Can I help you?”

“Yes, we’re sitting over there at that table.” Stella pointed. “I want to get a bottle of champagne, a bag of ice and the best lap dance available for my female friend at the table.” Stella slid her credit card across the bar.

The bartender nodded. “I’ll send it over.”

“Thanks.”

Stella walked back to the table, enjoying the atmosphere; it was dripping in sex. Just sitting in the room with the stage in front of them made her want to straddle George. When she sat down, Millie was still pouting about her knee. Stella leaned into George. “It’s a good thing she has no idea her face is all scratched up.”

George nodded and smiled as a blonde woman with no top on walked over to the table. She set an ice bucket with a chilled bottle of champagne down on the table with four glasses, then carried over a bag of ice and placed it gently on Millie’s bleeding knee.

Millie looked up and smiled politely. “Thank you.”

The woman put a shot in between her voluptuous breasts and straddled Millie’s lap. Stella began laughing immediately at the shock and alarm that played across Millie’s features. The stripper put her breasts in Millie’s face, pushing her mouth toward the shot glass in between her breasts, and told her to drink. George’s entire body was shaking with laughter and Patrick was looking everywhere but at Millie.

Shocking everyone sitting at the table, Millie put her mouth around the shot glass in between the stripper’s boobs and leaned her head back, taking the shot like a pro and then sitting back to watch the blonde gyrate on her lap with a smirk on her face. Stella’s stomach hurt from laughing so hard.

When the blonde finally kissed Millie’s cheek and told her thank you, Millie narrowed her eyes at Stella. “I hate you!” she yelled over the music.

Stella bent over with laughter. “You should’ve seen your fucking face.”

“Fuck you!” Millie’s melodic laughter rang through the air. “Hey, my face hurts. Is it okay?”

Patrick ran down Union; Stella saw him from the stairs where she and Cooper were waiting for him. Cooper started jumping up and down seeing him jog in front of the house. They joined in with Patrick’s cadence down Union toward King Street, waving at Agent Gunter as they passed. At least she still had the detail on her house; it was like a security blanket when she did decide to stay at home.

She let Cooper run ahead and then as he peed, she and Patrick would catch up. “So. What’s the plan?”

“I’m trying to get close with someone he trusts at the agency. I’m hoping to drop a few hints here and there and maybe we can find a way to get something going.” Patrick’s voice was clipped, but it wasn’t from exertion.

“Okay. In the meantime, I’m getting him to meet me for dinner Wednesday.”