by Hondo Jinx
Despite all that had happened, despite all that could happen, Brawley felt himself growing hard again. Nina looked incredibly sexy, and he’d been hornier than hell ever since she’d opened his strand. Even hornier since Sage had opened his second.
Nina shoved down her yellow sweatpants almost frantically, then wobbled back and forth, looking lovely standing on one leg and trying to pull her sweatpants over her combat boots. She pulled the first pant leg free, switched stances, and growled as she pulled the other half of her sweatpants laboriously over the boot.
By the time she’d finished, Brawley had iron in his pants.
Then she stood there in a red bra, matching panties, combat boots, and her ridiculous headwear.
The sight of her made him throb with desire.
“Ugh,” she said, sounding exasperated. “My life is a dumpster fire.” She growled again, clenching her fists and glaring at Brawley with her mismatched eyes. “I’m wearing a tinfoil hat, for fuck’s sake, but thanks to your power mage hoodoo mojo bullshit, all I can think about is your dick. I got so horny while I was shopping, I rubbed one out in the dressing room. That’s cuckoo fucking bananas. It’s like my pussy’s gone nuts. Look.” She peeled the crotch of her red panties slowly aside, and Brawley saw glistening strands stretch between her sex and the lacy fabric.
“Get over here,” Brawley said.
Nina put her hands on her hips and smirked, arching one eyebrow. “Look, just because I have a wet pussy, it doesn’t mean you can boss me around.”
“Now,” Brawley said, lowering his voice.
Nina rolled her eyes but came to him. She stopped inches away and stared up at him, her gaze ticking rapidly back and forth between his eyes. Her pupils were huge, half-eclipsing her brightly mismatched irises.
“What?” she said, trying to sound tough. But he heard the quiver of desire in her voice.
Which made no sense, of course. Not with everything they’d been through. But neither did his rock-hard erection or the primal dominance rising in him.
Nina had joked about his hoodoo bullshit, but this power mage mojo was for real. It was driving them both crazy with lust.
“On your knees,” he said.
Nina gasped faintly. She opened her mouth as if to speak, but Brawley stared into her eyes, and she closed her mouth and bit her lip and lowered slowly to the floor, where she knelt before him, her face inches from his crotch.
“Unzip me,” he said.
Taking her time, Nina unbuckled his belt, unbuttoned his jeans, and pulled the zipper down.
Released from its denim prison, his throbbing erection jutted up mightily from the band of his jockey shorts.
Nina stared with huge eyes, peeled down his underwear, and started reaching for him.
“No touching,” he said. “Not until I say so.”
Nina’s mouth fell open in feigned shock. “You can’t tell me—”
“Hands behind your back.”
Nina shook her head.
“Now.”
She sighed dramatically and reached around to cross her wrists behind her lower back. “There,” she said, all sassy, and arched her back, lifting her perfect tits. “Is that what you want?”
“It’s what you want,” Brawley said. “What else do you want?”
She rolled her eyes. “You know what I want.”
“Say it,” he told her.
“Your cock,” she whispered.
“What about it?”
“I want it.”
“Yes, you do. Now what did I tell you about your hands?”
Nina blushed. “Behind my back.”
He nodded toward her crotch, where one of her hands had slipped inside her little red panties and was working wetly up and down. “What are you doing, then?”
“It’s not fair,” Nina whined. “You keep teasing me, and—”
“Behind your back.”
Nina huffed with exasperation, pulled her glistening fingers from her panties, and once more crossed her wrists behind her back just above the swell of her shapely ass.
“Open your mouth and stick out your tongue,” he said.
Staring up at him, she opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue. She was trembling.
Brawley pulled himself free and held himself for her to see.
Nina’s eyes swelled, and a soft moan escaped her. She leaned forward, extending her pink tongue.
Brawley made her wait.
A thin strand of drool stretched away from her straining tongue.
At the purple tip of his swollen head, a glistening bead of precum had formed. He lowered himself, barely touching the head of his erection to her tongue, then lifted it away, allowing a twinkling strand to stretch from her tongue to his tip.
Nina pulled her tongue into her mouth and groaned with a shudder. Then she opened her mouth and stuck out her tongue again. “Please.”
Gripping himself by the root, Brawley slapped himself against Nina’s tongue.
She strained, trying to lick him, then stretched her lips around his bulbous head.
“No sucking,” he said. “Not until I say.”
Her mouth popped free. Nina crossed her arms over her fantastic chest and did her best to pout.
“Stand up,” he said.
Nina rose.
He frowned down at where she was playing with herself again.
She smiled nervously, pulling her hand from her panties. “Sorry. It’s just I want you so bad, and—”
“Turn around.”
Nina’s eyes flashed with excitement. She turned and stood there with her hands at her side, swaying her perfect peach ass slowly back and forth. Her juices ran in a thin, shining line down the tanned, firm flesh of her inner thigh.
“Pull down your panties,” he told her.
She complied, bracing herself against the pantry door with one arm as she stepped, still wearing her big combat boots, from the lacy twist of red fabric.
Still twitching back and forth, her ass was a study in perfection. Big, round, and firm beneath her tiny waist.
“Hands against the wall,” Brawley said.
Nina leaned slightly forward and pressed her splayed fingers against the pantry door. She turned her head so that her blue eye, gleaming with lust, stared back at him through the veil of purple hair hanging from her tinfoil helmet. Her mouth was open. She was panting softly with desire, her exhalations shaking the firm flesh of her quivering body.
“Spread your legs,” he said, “and stick out your ass.”
Nina slid her feet apart and lowered her upper body, making the smooth muscles of her toned back ripple alluringly. She raised her ass to him. “Fill me up,” she begged. “Please. My pussy has been aching for you all day.”
He stepped forward and slapped his shaft crisply off her firm bottom, spanking her with his pulsing length. He felt powerful, almost euphoric, and wanted nothing in the world as much as he wanted this woman now.
With one hand, Nina clamped the foil atop her purple locks. “Just don’t knock my hat off, okay?”
“Sexy,” he laughed.
“Sexier than getting raided by the Order.”
“Good point,” he said. “You’d better hold on tight, then.”
“Please,” Nina begged, pushing her ass into him, trying but failing to impale herself on his massive erection. “No more teasing. Take me, Brawley. Please, take me now.”
He bent his legs and inched slowly forward, sliding his shaft into the gap between her legs without touching her. Then he lifted slighting so that the length of his manhood pressed along her juicy slit from clit to crack. Without entering her, he rocked slowly back and forth, rubbing his hardness along the warm and silky folds of her sopping sex. Back and forth, back and forth, his tip grinding against the nub of her clit with every repetition.
“Uhnnn,” Nina groaned, hunching and shuddering as her orgasm surprised them both. She thrust a hand between her legs, trying and failing to stop her juices as she fell forward into t
he wall, crying out in climax and showering the floor with her essence.
Not waiting for her to finish, Brawley slipped an arm beneath her, underhooking her lower abdomen, and pulled her still squirting sex back against him. Soaked in her juices, the head of his erection missed its mark and slid upward, trapped between them, riding the groove of her crack, the swollen head jutting up from her ass like a purple flagpole.
He shoved her hips forward, opening a gap.
“Fuck me, babe,” she begged, her voice still warbling with orgasm.
Filling one hand with her perfect ass, he gripped his throbbing shaft, bent it down, and aimed the tip at her gushing mound.
He eased forward, letting his head spread her outer folds slightly, and Nina cried out again, hit by another wave of intense orgasm.
Brawley had never experienced anything this hot in his entire life. Enough screwing around, he thought, and was ready to plunge into her when someone started knocking frantically at the door of the RV.
Nina gave a little yelp and came away from the wall with wide eyes.
Brawley growled with frustration, swept his XDS from the table behind him, and aimed at the door, where someone was messing with the lock.
The door popped open, and Brawley rapidly turned his muzzle aside as an obviously terrified Sage rushed into the RV, an overstuffed backpack slung over one shoulder. “They’re coming for us,” she gasped.
“Who?” Brawley and Nina asked at the same time.
“Junior and his crew,” Sage said breathlessly. “They know where we are. A technopath hacked the security cameras, I think. I had a powerful wave of foreboding and investigated, and this all came rushing in.”
Brawley straightened, considering her words. And yes, there… he felt it, too. Not all the detailed stuff Sage was saying but a growing sense of doom, faint yet definite, like an ominous bell tolling over and over, growing closer with each warning strike.
“They’ll be here in five minutes,” Sage said. “And this time, Junior is going all out. They’re looking to catch us in an ambush and kill us in one massive assault.”
“Fuckshitpisscocksuckingassholes,” Nina mumbled, gathering her clothes from the floor.
Sage grabbed Brawley’s arm and stared up at him, her huge blue eyes pleading behind the lenses of her sexy librarian glasses. “We have to go now,” she said. “We have to run before they get here. If we hurry out of town and away from the cameras, I—”
“No,” Brawley said, filled with icy calm. “I won’t have them on our trail. We finish this now. Here is where we make our stand.”
20
“What do you mean, they’re dead?” Junior said as they cruised slowly along the parking lot past the supermarket. After losing time by missing turns, they had managed to follow cameras to this shopping center. His entire crew was with him now. Rick drove. The four stone-cold killers crammed in the back of the Hummer, which bristled with weapons.
“Someone knocked out the cameras,” Rick said. “This half of the lot is completely dark.”
Did Nina and her boyfriend know Junior was coming? No. Almost certainly not. They were just a couple of telekinetics on the run, not a pair of Seekers.
Unless…
What if the guy was more than just Unbound?
According to Gabriella, Seekers were speculating that a new power mage might have emerged. Somewhere in the Keys, apparently. And according to Bostic, probably right here in Key West.
Whatever.
The power mages were all dead, had been since before Junior was born, and the universe couldn’t just pull a new one out of its ass. The power shift Bostic and the Seekers were sensing was Junior’s rise to power, not Nina or her boyfriend, even if the asshole did end up being a power mage.
Because power mages died, too. As the Culling had proved in spades.
No, these two weren’t Seekers, and they didn’t know he was coming. They had simply knocked out the cameras so no one could see them sitting there.
It was a good thing, actually, proof that they were here.
The only problem now would be finding their vehicle.
And with the cameras out, that was a real problem, because neither he nor anyone in his crew was a Seeker. How the fuck would they find their vehicle even if it was still sitting here?
“There,” Rick said, pointing across the dashboard, and Junior felt a rush of adrenaline.
At the far end of the lot, near the old movie theatre, sat a fancy RV. The RV itself was unfamiliar. But Junior certainly recognized the sticker-plastered pink moped leaning against the RV.
“Nina,” he said, a grin stretching across his face. “Stupid mistake, girl.”
He directed Rick to drive slowly past the RV. Then they looped back around the other side, keeping their distance so as not to alert Nina or her boyfriend.
The lights were on. Junior could see their silhouettes moving behind the curtains, as faint and indistinct as ghosts.
Well, soon enough they will be ghosts, he thought, and then he told Rick to pull over. Idling there, he told his men exactly what they were going to do.
His crew responded with grunts and nods and went about double-checking their weapons and ammo. These guys were pros. It had taken Junior two years of hard work to recruit them and a ridiculous amount of money keeping them on retainer. Tonight’s hit alone would set him back one hundred and sixty thousand dollars, but that was a drop in the golden bucket when he looked at the big picture.
The only member of the crew showing any nerves was Rick, and he was showing plenty of nerves.
While Junior wanted as much firepower as he could muster, he knew it would be foolish to bring Rick along. The jumpy Gearhead was aces with machines but didn’t have the balls for a firefight. Not even a one-sided firefight that would be over before it even started. Put a gun in Rick’s hand, and he’d probably shoot his balls off.
Or my balls, Junior thought.
“Rick,” Junior said, “I need you to stay here and watch the Escalade.”
Rick let out a shuddering sigh. “Okay,” he said. “Will do. Thanks, Junior. I really…”
Junior blocked him out, studying the lot and the RV one last time. He saw no new wrinkles, nothing to warrant questioning, let alone changing his plans.
The others were ready. None of them complained about Rick staying behind. They were paid too well to complain, of course, but Junior suspected that they were relieved to be running the hit without having to worry about friendly fire from a technopathic bundle of nerves.
For a second, he was tempted to let the pros do this alone. They could kick in the RV door and waste everyone inside. Shit, with the weapons they were carrying, they could stand outside and blast straight through the camper’s walls.
But a second later, Junior rejected the notion. First of all, the plan relied on his psionics. He was going to blast a big hole straight through the RV. If Nina and her boyfriend were lucky, they would be killed instantly. If not, well they would be dead soon enough, because all four mercs would hose the interior down with hot lead.
More importantly, Junior wanted to be in on the action. He wanted to build his rep and wanted to listen to Nina and her boy toy’s screams as they were blown to bits.
He would remember those screams forever. And when he took power from his father, he would replay those screams in his mind like sweet music. The soundtrack to his unstoppable success.
He’d known that he was golden once they tracked their target to the community center. Junior had grinned, watching the staticky figure embrace none other than Nina Mack.
She looked pretty staticky, too, thanks to some less powerful cloak, but he would recognize Nina anywhere. Her shape, her walk, everything.
That bitch had always acted like she was too good for Junior. It was a shame, really that he had to waste her. It would be fun to hobble her with psi-cuffs and keep her around for a while. Wear her out, then pass her to the crew as a reward. Then keep her around a little longer, jus
t so she could see how wrong she had been to underestimate him. Ask her, after he took over as the new capo, How do you like me now? Then feed her fine ass to the tarpons as a nod of respect to Senior, who had, after all, paved the way and kept Junior’s seat warm.
He grinned. Ever since offing that stupid Beastie that called himself the Cat Wizard, Junior had been cranked to the max, like he’d snorted a long line of crystallized psionic power. He was going to blast that RV to bits.
And yes, he would waste Nina, too. Because no piece of ass was worth risking success. Not even if she came with a side order of I fucking told you so, bitch.
Nope. Nina had to die. As did her boyfriend.
And their deaths would drive his power through the roof. Nina was stupid, but she was powerful, and her boyfriend clearly had big juice, based on what he did to Marco. Killing them would boost Junior to a whole new level of psionic power.
And coming so quickly on the heels of the day’s earlier deaths, his wasting of these two would send a clear message to the psionic underground: do not fuck with Junior Dutchman.
Everyone would fear him. And Junior would drape their fear over his shoulders like the robe of a king.
A king who would soon ascend to his throne. Because Valdez would take note of Junior’s handling of the situation. One step closer…
“We’re going to strike fast and get out,” Junior said. “The last thing we want is fuggle cops showing up and forcing us to waste them, too.”
He’d forgotten for a second that all four of the men sitting behind him were fuggles. Not that they seemed to understand, let alone mind, the term. Their brutal faces just stared back at him, waiting to go hot.
“Kill the lights,” Junior told Rick, “and pull in over there, just this side of the garbage trucks.” Ever since the movie theater had gone bust, Conch Disposal had been parking their trucks here.
Rick did as he was told and pulled in behind the last truck, which put them within one hundred feet of the RV. From this range, Junior could blast the camper at full force.
“But first, you fuck up their engine, Rick,” Junior said.
“Okay,” the jumpy Gearhead said.
