Todd Manning stalked into a dark, hole-in-the-wall bar in one of the tougher areas of East Llanview and slid onto a barstool. His teeth had been tightly clenched ever since he’d left RJ’s club, but despite the soreness in his jaw and the headache hammering his skull, he refused to unclench them. He liked being pissed. He loved being angry. His was about ready to explode as horrible, conflicting emotions and odious thoughts swirled around in his head. His slim body was trembling with suppressed rage, primed and ready for a good release. Now all he needed was to get falling down drunk and engage in a nasty bar brawl, and his New Year’s celebration would be complete.
This was total bullshit, he thought as his piercing eyes shifted around the filthy bar in search of a worthy opponent. He should be ringing in the New Year at the penthouse, in front of the fireplace, with Blair curled up next to him as she cooed naughty words and played with his ears. Instead he was in a foul smelling bar watching a past-her-prime hooker dirty dancing with a pot-bellied john. Instead of coming home with him, Blair had humiliated him in front of everyone by flirting like a cheap slut with Cristian Vega and publicly rebuffing him. He needed to get wasted and he needed to do it quick. He wanted to forget Blair, her rejection, and the way she’d been grinding her cute ass into Vega’s willing crotch.
Todd pounded a fist on the scarred, wooden surface of the bar and snarled in the direction of the bartender. “Hey! Let’s get some service around here, damn it, I need to get drunk!”
“Stop beatin’ on my bar!” An old man threw a finger at Todd as he shuffled over to him.
Popeye on crack. That was Todd’s first impression of the wiry, crooked little man as he rested an unusually large, tattooed forearm on the bar and glared at Todd with his one good eye. A greasy looking cigar hung from a corner of his thin mouth and two small warts dotted his bulbous nose. His head was completely bald save for a tuft of thin, white hair standing at attention on the crown and his surprisingly rock-hard chin had a deep cleft in it.
“Whacha want, boy?” Popeye growled over the deafening blues tune wailing in the background.
Todd grimaced as the smell of putrid breath reached his nostrils. “Whiskey.”
The old man pulled a bottle off the dirty shelf behind him and popped it open, then poured a shot in an equally dirty glass and slammed it down in front of Todd. Instead of moving away, Popeye propped his hands on the bar and proceeded to stare the younger man down.
Todd raised the small shot glass and examined it with a frown. “Got anything cleaner?”
“What are ya, a girl?” Popeye challenged.
Todd muttered a string of curses as he wiped the rim of the glass with the hem of his shirt. Praying he wouldn’t catch some kind of disease, he downed the whiskey in one quick gulp. The liquid didn’t stay on his tongue for long, but it was long enough for him to know that it tasted as fowl as it looked. “Your whiskey tastes like piss.”
“You in the habit of drinkin’ piss, boy?”
“Just hit me again!” Todd barked in annoyance as he shoved his glass at the old man.
Popeye shook his head and poured more of the nasty liquor into Todd’s glass. He eyed it with trepidation, but downed it again anyway. The first shot was already curdling in his empty stomach, but soon he would be completely wasted and the quality of the alcohol wouldn’t matter.
Todd’s wish to be alone would be denied, however, as Popeye still refused to go away. “This whatcha plan on doing all next year…drowning yer sorrows by yerself?”
“What the hell are you mumbling about? Can I please get smashed in peace?”
“My bar, my whiskey. I’ll bother ya if I wanna. The New Year is two hours away.”
“And that’s important because?” Todd continued to scan the bar for someone else to pick a fight with.
“Ain’t you heard that old wives’ tale? Whatever you’re doin’ when the New Year comes in is what you’ll be doin’ the rest of the year?”
“Bullshit.” Todd snorted and held out his glass again.
“Think so, huh? Think I’m gonna be here a few minutes from now? Hell no! I’m gonna be at home, buggering my old lady into a stupor!”
“Okay, okay!” Todd shouted in horror. “I don’t want to hear the gruesome details of some freaky old man’s sex life!”
Popeye cackled. “You’re damn right they’re gruesome. My wife ain’t as pretty as me. She’s got more hair on her body then I have on my entire head and she can hide an elephant in her ass cheeks...”
Todd swallowed hard and shuddered in revulsion as an image of old Popeye bouncing up and down on a 400 pound Olive Oyl popped into his head.
“…but I can still say I’m having sex at nearly eighty years old.” The old man continued proudly. “I just squeeze my eyes shut and pretend she’s Marilyn Monroe. Works pretty good. ‘Specially when she calls me Daddy.”
Todd shot to his feet, toppling over the barstool as he pulled a wad of bills out of his pocket and tossed them down onto the bar. “I’m outta here! You’ve fucked up my night, old man!”
Popeye howled at that as he scooped up the cash. “You’re gonna fuck up your year if you don’t listen to me, boy! Better go grab you some long-legged beauty and start screwing her silly. ‘Less ya wanna be in the same hell next year. You’ll be all alone!”
Todd stalked faster out of the bar than he had entered it. He escaped outside into the frigid night air and angrily jerked the lapels of his jacket closed in an effort to warm himself.
“Damn freak.” He muttered as he began walking towards his car, parked two blocks away.
Todd kept an eye out for potential muggers, his gaze focused on his surroundings as he navigated East Llanview’s surprisingly deserted streets. He laughed to himself, realizing he was the only asshole out enjoying the near-freezing temperatures. Icy cold wind bit into his exposed ears and hands and the more he walked, the more his anger dissipated to be replaced by a growing feeling of despair. Popeye’s parting words began to echo in his mind, growing louder and louder with each step Todd took.
“Better go grab you some long-legged beauty and start screwing her silly. 'Less ya wanna be in the same hell next year.”
He finally reached his car, thankful that it was still there. He hurriedly climbed inside and promptly started the engine so he could turn the heat up full blast. As he held his frostbitten fingers in front of the vent, Todd heard Popeye cackling at him again.
“You’re gonna fuck up your year if you don’t listen to me, boy! You’ll be all alone!”
What had he been doing this time last year? Oh yeah. Wallowing in misery. Alone. With a couple of bottles of whiskey in his hotel room. Pretty much what he had been doing all this year, despite his desperate efforts to change that. Maybe old Popeye knew what he was talking about after all.
“Bullshit!” Todd spat as he revved the engine and headed for home. Those kind of silly superstitions were for losers. And even though he was a loser, he hadn’t yet sunk low enough to believe in something so asinine.
Even if the ridiculous wives’ tale were true, there was no way he could be doing everything he wanted to be doing next year as the clock stroke midnight. If he thought for one minute he could accomplish them all…
Suddenly, an idea sprang into Todd’s mind. A completely wicked and nasty idea, but oh man, what fun it would be. He glanced at the digital clock embedded in his dashboard. He had an hour and a half. He could do it. Hell, why not? If it didn’t work, he’d have a good laugh about it this time next year. Maybe he’d go back to Popeye’s bar and see if he was still screwing Olive Oyl into a stupor.
With a wicked grin, Todd stepped on the gas and careened towards Llanfair.
************
Blair’s confused mind was filled with second thoughts as Cristian pressed her back into the door of the storage closet. He was so busy pawing her breasts and snaking his tongue inside her ear that he didn’t notice her lack of response. At first, screwing a young, good-looking hunk had seemed liberating when alcohol and anger were swimming together in her hot head. Now it seemed utterly foolish to be making out in a storage closet with a still wet-behind-the-ears manchild.
Showing Todd that he didn’t own her had been the plan, but it had backfired on her. All she could think about was the sadness etched on his features when he had left. And getting Cristian’s hands out of the top of her dress.
Just as she was trying to extricate herself from him, the door of the storage room was yanked open and Blair yelped as she fell backward and hit the floor hard. Cristian uttered a muffled grunt as he landed on top of her, his eager hands still glued to her breasts. And then suddenly, he wasn’t on top of her anymore.
“Arrgghh!”
Blair rolled over and stumbled to her feet in time to see Todd viciously grinding Cristian’s pretty boy face into the stucco wall. Cristian tried valiantly to free himself, but Todd’s foot was firmly planted in his ass, pinning him against the wall, and Cristian’s other arm was twisted grotesquely behind his back.
“Where’s your backup now, asshole?” Todd snarled as he yanked Cristian’s arm even harder.
“Todd, stop it!” Blair screamed, feeling guilty over the way her stupid actions had manifested themselves. Cristian was getting his ass kicked and God only knew what havoc Todd had wreaked upon Llanview when he had left the club.
Hearing Blair’s plea, Todd stopped for only a moment to glare at her, then quickly jerked Cristian’s head back and smacked it into the wall again. The younger man crumpled to the floor in blessed unconsciousness and Todd stepped over him as he turned his attention to Blair.
Usually Blair gave as good as she got when it came to Todd, but the predatory gleam in his hazel eyes scared her shitless. She backed up slowly as he advanced towards her, his fingers clenching and unclenching. She could she his tongue snaking around inside his lower lip, something he did habitually when he was upset or annoyed. He looked a little more than annoyed at the moment, Blair decided, as he finally backed her into the wall, his chest pressed tightly against her breasts, his nose almost touching hers as he stared into her wide eyes.
“You don’t scare me, Todd.” Blair’s statement of bravado came out as a choked whisper and she mentally kicked herself for sounding so weak.
“You’re coming with me.” Todd commanded, his voice a low growl filled with determination and something else…
That something else was pressing against Blair’s pelvis and her green eyes widened even further. “Oh…my…”
Todd’s lips curved into a knowing smirk as he very deliberately ran his hand across Blair’s sequin-encased breast and down her arm. She shivered with arousal, wondering where his fingers would land next, but was sorely disappointed when they curled around hers instead.
“You’re coming with me now.” Todd repeated forcefully and Blair stumbled after him as he pulled her up the stairs and out of the club.
By the time she was belted into his new Porsche, Blair had regained some of her senses and began babbling incessantly. She didn’t even know what she was saying, her heart and mind still befuddled by the intense sexual vibes oozing from Todd, but she knew she was shrieking at him for decking Cristian, having her arrested, and turning Starr against her. Bitching was the best defense. Although she wanted to fuck him senseless, she had to let Todd know she would not put up with his caveman antics any longer.
“Shut up.” Todd ordered quietly when Blair finally inhaled. He shifted into first as he came to a red light and turned to glare at his ex-wife. Damn, but he looked delicious, with his hair falling in his eyes and two days worth of stubble covering his jaw. “ You shut up until I say you can talk.”
Pissed at his crudeness, Blair took off on another long-winded rant, throwing barely decipherable insults at him. And then her shrieking was cut off by a yelp as his hand shot out and grabbed her thigh. He gave it a gentle squeeze and then slid his hand beneath the hem of her skirt, stopping to finger the garter she wore before continuing toward his target.
“Oh, shit…” Blair trembled, her eyes glued to his, her thighs falling open of their own volition. She held her breath in anticipation, her heart hammering in her chest, and then…
…the light turned green.
Blair groaned in frustration when Todd’s hand left her and grabbed the gearshift instead. He took off, shifting into second, then third, speeding toward their destination, his eyes focused intently on the road. Blair concentrated on the road too, trying to regain her composure as they whizzed down one of Llanview’s main avenues. Todd shifted into fourth and then suddenly his hand was under her dress again.
“Oh, yes…” Blair trembled again, thankful she hadn’t worn any panties as Todd’s fingers finally found their mark. She issued a strangled oath as she bit her lower lip, her vision blurring along with the road before them. In the back of her mind, as his fingers kneaded her slick flesh, Blair realized they were going dangerously fast. Other cars seemed to be sitting still as they shot by, Todd weaving the sleek car expertly through traffic.
“Slow down.” Blair gasped as all feeling centered between her thighs.
Todd’s fingers slowed.
“I meant the car!” Blair shouted angrily. The car sped up and so did his fingers. They dipped and glided against her as the Porsche maneuvered swiftly past a clunky brown van.
“We’re…gonna…d-die.” Blair moaned with pleasure and nearly laughed at the thought. She could see the Sun’s headlines now. EX’S CRASH AND BURN IN CARNAL JOY RIDE! How humiliating it would be to be cut out of Todd’s mangled car with his hand still wedged between her thighs.
Todd remained unbelievably calm through the whole thing, eyes steadily on the road, fingers steadily stroking as he zipped through green and yellow lights. She wondered how on earth he could be so calm during such a dangerously erotic moment, especially when she, the one supposedly gifted in seduction, was coming so unglued.
Blair slumped lower and lower in her seat, one hand gripping the door handle and other clawing Todd’s thigh as she panted and groaned and dug her heels into the floorboard. Up ahead, she saw a red light and she shook her head violently at the lousy timing. She was close…so close.
“Turn green…turn green!” Blair hissed as Todd’s finger hit a particularly sensitive spot.
But the light didn’t turn green and Todd snatched his hand away as he downshifted again and came to a stop.
Blair knew he was looking at her but she refused to look at him. She imagined she was a sight, with her dressed pushed up around her slim hips and her legs wide open as she panted like a bitch in heat. The car took off again and Blair closed her eyes in excited expectation. Todd’s hand didn’t return to its previous task, however, and she whimpered in disappointment.
It turned out that she didn’t need any further stimulation at all, as Blair managed to climax just thinking about what Todd was going to do to her when finally got her home. As the last tremor subsided, Todd whipped the Porsche into the parking garage of the penthouse building.
The car slid into it’s reserved parking space and Todd killed the motor. When he didn’t move, Blair chanced a glance at him and discovered him grinning at her with arrogant self-satisfaction. He reached over and pulled up her errant shoulder strap, one eyebrow arching sardonically.
“Cristian who?”
“Wha?” Blair mumbled stupidly in reply.
A second later, Todd was out of the Porsche and strutting around to the passenger side. He hauled her out of the car before Blair could make herself decent and half-dragged, half-carried her to the elevator. She couldn’t seem to move her feet and her legs felt like goo. She sagged against him on the ride up and was clinging to him for dear life when they finally made it through the penthouse door.
Blair was pulling at his belt buckle and lifting her mouth to his when she caught a glimpse of something from the corner of her eye. Her hand stilled where it had slipped into his pants and she stared in horror at the scene before her.
“What the hell?” Blair exclaimed as her astonished gaze swiveled back to Todd.
Todd shrugged, his expression one of mayhem and his smile almost sinister. “Humor me, okay? 2001 is gonna be an excellent year.”
************
Popeye should have it so good, Todd thought as Blair expertly swiveled her hips over his. He might just go back to that ugly dive and regale the old bartender with his own tales of sexual prowess. But he needed to concentrate on the bounty before him, or else he and Blair would be finished before the clock struck midnight.
“Closer, Blair.” Todd groaned as she pinched his nipples and sucked his earlobe into her mouth.
“Shut…up…Todd.” Blair gasped laboriously as she slanted her mouth over his and slid her tongue past his lips. Only when she noticed his futile efforts to stretch his legs out in front of him did she relent. “Hurry…up…dammit!”
Todd laughed as his long-legged witch wrapped her legs around the chair and her arms around his neck. He held on to the seat as he planted his feet and scooted forward, gritting his teeth at the increased, pleasurable friction of their joined bodies. He extended his feet again, and satisfied, gripped Blair’s hips again and continued bouncing her up and down on him.
Blair was in fine form tonight, playing with his ears just the way he liked, stretching and bending her long, limber body in all kinds of directions to heighten their pleasure, and silently laughing at Todd’s hilarious New Year’s celebration.
“It’s…almost…time.” Blair panted as she glanced at the ticking time bomb on Todd’s opened laptop.
Todd leaned forward, careful not to stop moving lest Blair punch him in protest again, and planted his foot squarely in Sam’s wide, upraised ass. It had taken some time to arrange his listless body in just the right position and he feared he’d slipped a bit too much of the knockout drug into old coach’s drink. Ben and Kevin had been twisted into place with no problem, though, and Todd laughed ironically at how easily they’d assumed the position. When he was finished with them, he’d haul them back to Llanfair, undress them, and arrange all of them in various scandalous positions in Viki’s bed.
Blair was working on her second climax when the clock began to herald midnight. Everything went dark around them as Llanview was plunged into another blackout, this one accompanied by a computer virus that would wipe out the network hard drives of the LPD and The Banner.
Todd slowed his pace with Blair as he raised a foot and kicked Sam hard in his ass. Coach keeled over, his laggard body rolling into an undignified heap. By the third chime, he’d kicked Kevin. And thanks to one of Blair’s particularly erotic maneuvers, he just barely managed to kick Ben on the final chime.
Triumph! Even though the silly wives tale was probably untrue, Todd was taking no chances. How sweet 2001 would be if it were…spending a whole year making love to Blair, terrorizing Llanview, and kicking the self-righteous asses of his enemies.
Todd lowered his head to Blair’s breasts and finally lost himself in their frenzied coupling. “Happy…New…Year…Blair.”
“Wha?”
THE END