John Mackie - Hazardous Goods

It took me a good five minutes to clean the liquid off the rack, the box and the floor, most of it spent lying stretched out on my side, squirming to reach the damned puddle at the bottom. Once I was finished, I managed to locate a plastic zipper bag for the package, wiped off the guck I had managed to get on my hand and wrist, and headed out front to look for Kara.

She was chatting with Jamar in the reception area, the two of them standing and sipping coffee.

“Hi guys.”

“Hey man.”

“Hi Donnie.”

Jamar looked his usual self this morning. Maybe the curse on his ring was wearing off or something. Kara, on the other hand — I don’t know whether she was wearing more mascara or had changed her eyeliner, but she was looking even hotter than usual. Her eyes had a definite ‘come hither and thou shall have a glorious time’ look about them. I paused, waiting for her to speak, but she just stared at me.

“Um. Can you check with a customer for me? I knocked over this package, and something leaked through the wrapping.”

“Sure.” I held out the package, but she put her coffee down and stepped towards me, closing the gap between us to paper thin.

I have to say, standing a few inches away from a hot babe is not something I should complain about. God knows it seldom happens to me. But we Elders have our issues with personal space, and Kara had invaded mine. I tried to lean back without causing any offense, but found myself bumping into the reception desk.

“Here you go.”

She ignored the package in my hand, now trapped between us. I could feel a hot flush rising up the back of my neck and my ears.

“Kara?”

“You are so hot .”

I snorted and looked to Jamar. I will admit to being gullible, but the quizzical look on his face suggested he was not in on the joke. So I looked back to Kara.

Problem was, I could feel the heat coming off of her. Her cheeks were red, eyes wild, nostrils flared, lips engorged. Jesus. I pressed back into the reception counter, now worried that she would notice how my slacks were beginning to bulge below the waist. However, that was the last thing I needed to worry about.

One moment we were frozen, inches from one another. The next, she launched herself at me, arms and legs wrapped around my hips and shoulders (arms to shoulders, legs to hips — pervert ). And her lips . Those sweet, sweet lips.

I admit it. For what seemed like an eternity, I just went with it. My whole being was focused on her lips, pressed to mine, then her tongue thrusting into my mouth. I made a tentative move with my own tongue, and she vacuumed it into her warm mouth. I groaned in pleasure and that seemed to ramp it up even more. Now her hips were thrusting against me, and I could feel myself responding. It took every ounce of decency in me not to throw her onto the reception desk and start pulling off clothes.

Finally we both needed to breath and our mouths separated, just for a moment. And in that few seconds, the sheer lust which had overwhelmed me was beaten back just enough for me to act.

“Hang on, hang on. I mean-”

She was on me again, lips on mine, tongue exploring. And she smelled so good . Florals, vanilla, and a primal musk. Despite myself, I pushed her shoulders back, leaving her latched onto my hips and trying to pull herself forward with her arms. Her hair was feral, blond strands curling down to her lips.

“Kara?”

Her eyes were glowing embers.

“Babe?”

I looked around us, desperate to find a way out of this paradox of pleasure and pain.

“Jamar!”

“Dude.” He was halfway out the door, having concluded that spectators were not welcome.

“Get her off of me.”

“ What ?” He looked at me as though I had grown a third eye.

“I know, I know.” I swear I sobbed. “Please.”

He didn’t say anything, but I think he knew. Something was wrong about this. So very, very right. And yet wrong.

“Kara? Girl?” When she ignored him, he locked his arms around her waist from behind and pulled, with me pushing on her shoulders. I had a very bad feeling someone was going to walk in on us and conclude that the premises were being used for a low budget porn flick. It took a fair amount of work, but he pried her off of me and got her seated in one of the reception chairs.

“Kara? Babe, what are you doing?” Jamar held her down in the chair, trying to make eye contact with her. Her hair had a wild, post-coital look that won hands-down over any sleek sophisticated hairdo I’ve ever seen. I remained at the reception desk, tucking in my shirt and trying to rearrange the lap of my slacks.

“ Jamar .”

“Kara. You OK, girl?”

“ Let go of me .”

He glanced back at me and I shrugged. What the hell was going on?

“I’ll let go of you if you promise to be a good girl.”

“ I don’t want to be a good girl .”

Oh my God.

“Babe?”

“Please, Jamar. I need him.”

The way she said that, I almost shoved Jamar out of the way and jumped her.

“What are you talking about, girl?”

“Why don’t I just get a few things done in the backroom?” I turned to go, and the screaming began.

“No! Donnie, I need you. I NEED YOU!”

“ Run! ” I swear, that’s what he said. It was like Jamar was the guy in the horror movie that decided to sacrifice himself to save his friends. Only this monster was five three, blond, and in heat.

I ran.

She had been talking dirty to me for fifteen minutes before Jamar was able to get through to Professor Irving.

I was trapped, sitting with my back against the inside of the door to the Lost and Found Room, listening to a smoking hot woman tell me what she was going to do to me if I would just open that door . It was like she had snuck into every private fantasy I had ever had, and was now offering to make them real, describing every act in explicit, excruciating detail. I was shaking like a heroin addict watching his last fix go down the toilet.

“Jamar!”

“I got it!”

“- and then I’m going to pour butterscotch syrup all over your-.”

“Got what? What ?”

“He says there’s an incense stick in there with you. Third shelf from the floor, left side.”

I stood, and the door shook as Kara threw her shoulder into it.

“Which one?”

“Blue, with a white wax tip.”

OK. Got it.

“Slip it under the door to me.”

“- I can wear a uniform, anything you want. I can put on a nurse’s outfit, with the-.”

I was feeling lightheaded. I swear I thought I would pass out. It was as though my primitive brain was scrabbling to override the slim thread of decency that was holding me together. I dropped to my knees and slid the candle under the door to Jamar.

“Hang on, big guy.”

“- just want to run my tongue all over-.”

I heard a match strike, and Jamar’s calm voice.

“Breath this, babe. Take a deep breath.”

“I don’t want to breathe your stupid-.” Kara’s voice petered out.

“Jamar?”

I listened for a sound, anything that might indicate what was going on.

“Kara?”

I could hear her voice. A whisper. “What — ? What was — ? Oh .”

I opened the door and peered around the corner just in time to see her turn and sprint to the front of the shop, hands to her face and tears streaming down her cheeks.

If it wasn’t clear to me earlier, it was clear to me at that moment. God has every intention of ensuring that the Elder family name comes to an end with Ted and me. No wonder my mother always seems so unhappy.

I suppose I could at least be thankful that it was Maggie’s day in the office. In her fifties, Maggie had a son who was nearly as old as Kara, and a daughter just a few years younger. She also had a kind face and a soothing voice.