Tyrant

by Tiana Laveen

  “Why are you still dressed?” he asked.

  “Because I think you’re trying to stall.”

  “I’m not. I just want to feel better.” He came close, wrapped his arm around her waist, and drew her in for a kiss. His kiss was soft, tender, loving… but that was short-lived. Her heart pumped when she felt him tugging with rough need at her pants, his actions rage-filled. She winced when he released them as if frustrated, then shoved his big hand up her shirt and groped her breasts.

  “What are you doing?”

  He backed her into the wall so fast, it was as if he wanted to fight her till the death. She screamed when he slammed her back against the cold, hard wall.

  “Hunter!”

  “I need you, baby…”

  She had no idea how he’d managed, but before she knew it, her slacks were in a heap around her ankles. He yanked at her panties, practically ripping them from her body, then hoisted her in his arms. Wrapping her legs around his waist, he plunged his tongue in her mouth. The warmth and hardness of his body felt so divine.

  “I’m sick, baby. I need a pussy prescription. Give me that wet medicine between your legs…” His deep voice, minty fresh breath, and lust tickled the side of her neck as he grinded against her zone. Kissing her all the way, he carried her to the bathroom, knocking the door open with his shoulder. He gently placed her down, snatched the shower curtain back, and turned on the water, testing it for warmth. Grabbing her with the greatest of ease, her body now wrapped around his, he got them both inside the tub. She held on as he slid her under the water, both of them getting drenched. The shock of the water suddenly flowing over her body titillated her senses. ‘Flex,’ by Mad Lion, played from his bedroom. He raised her hands above her head, intertwined their fingers, and pressed his lips against hers.

  The intensity of the way he kissed her made her almost cum from that alone. He then massaged her left breast and leaned down to take her nipple in his mouth. His eyes closed as he sucked slow and hard, caressing all over her ass and squeezing. When he released her nipple, the cool air hit it and made her shiver. Further and further down he went, the water beating off his back as he pushed her knees apart. The water splashing on his face, he sucked on her pussy as if it were a piece of hard candy.

  “Shit!”

  In seconds, her knees went weak and her legs wobbled as an orgasm seized her. She screamed out but could barely hear her own voice with the music and water drowning out everything but her own damn heartbeat. He kept sucking, stroking and licking as if he still had work to do… as if she’d not cum at all. He didn’t let up, and before long, she climaxed once again, this time, stronger than before.

  He got on his feet and wrapped her thighs around his waist, holding her close, bringing her flush against him. Moving her out of the flow of the water, to the side of the stall, he reached between their bodies. His power, concentration, and passion at that moment both frightened her and turned her on.

  “Ohhhh…uhhh…” She gritted her teeth as he lunged upward inside her like a missile detonating. The width of his wide, long dick stretched her open, the pleasurable pain something she now craved in the worst way. She looked between their rocking bodies, observing his slick cock going in and out of her pussy, faster and faster. Plunging his tongue in her mouth, his heated kisses matched the tempo of his pounding thrusts, and she became putty in his hands. Each time he entered her, she rocked against the shower wall to the beat of the song.

  His groans and grunts echoed, wrapping around her moans and cries of ecstasy. Running her hands along the back of his neck, she surrendered. Her pussy embraced and squeezed his thrusting dick. He held her up by her ass cheeks, and the water splashed off his tattooed shoulder. He lifted her slowly off his dick, but kept the tip in, then dropped her down fast until she was level with his groin. She yelled in pleasure when he did it a few more times, abusing and tormenting her pussy, making it feel so damn good. He nestled her head to his chest and jostled her up and down, slow and easy, then fast and hard.

  “JJ… Shit!” He kept thrusting with all of his might, never slowing until she shook uncontrollably, cumming so much she was starting to lose count. Opening the shower curtain, he stepped out with her, still fucking her… never slowing. Her pussy flooded with her own juices when he paused in the hall, swayed, then stopped dead in his tracks. His eyes rolled as he fought the urge to nut… Gathering his wits, he stumbled into his bedroom, where G-Unit’s ‘Wanna Get To Know You’ was now playing. Crossing his arms around her back, he rocked his hips back and forth, then turned her laterally, forcing her to slide sideways up and down his pumping cock.

  “Come on, Nita! Ride my dick harder, baby! Bounce on that fucker!”

  They pumped their bodies against one another, faster and faster.

  With one hand, he reached down and massaged her clit as she hung onto him with one hand while he angled her forward. Then, her body exploded with back-to-back orgasms. She shook so badly, he had to hold her tighter.

  “Whoa… I got you… You okay, baby?” he asked softly.

  She heard him speaking, but she could barely breathe, let alone respond. Her entire body felt like a celebration – every damn cell dancing. Her pussy was swollen, full, happy, her clit sensitive to the slightest touch from their almost daily lovemaking. She closed her eyes and damn near fell apart as he layered her face, neck, and breasts with the sweetest, loving kisses. He began to pump his hips again, his head rested against her breasts. His muscular back bowed and he bent at the knees with each lunge. He was panting, like a wild animal, and the sexiness of the noises he was making drove her crazy.

  The scent of his skin, the way he moved – it was all too much, and yet, never enough. Holding her steady, he began to walk with her, fucking her with each step. With a semi-shaky hand, he turned off the music, and then, his harsh breathing could be heard in stereo. She closed her eyes and felt every bit of him times one hundred… The twisting and turning of his body, the way his hands dug into her flesh as he held onto her with need. The man’s stamina was incredible. They’d made love enough times where she knew when he was about to cum, and yet, he always managed to keep going a little past his own breaking point. As easy as he pleased, he exited the bedroom, walking her back into the bathroom where the shower still roared.

  Positioning her once again against the stall wall, he lunged hard inside of her in quickfire bursts of energy that she never saw coming. The slapping noise of his wet body against hers competed with their mutual moans. As he bit and sucked on her neck, he erupted, shaking against her, the muscles in his arms and legs twitching as he climaxed hard. Her pussy suddenly pooled with liquid warmth, but he kept moving, draining himself dry with fast, ruthless jabs within her.

  His dick throbbed as he came to a standstill, his semen trickling down her inner thighs. Wrapping his hand around her neck, he slipped his tongue inside her mouth. He lived hard. He fucked hard. He loved hard. She held onto him with all that she had as he shook violently against her. He wasn’t climaxing; he was decompressing… letting go… breaking down…

  There were no tears on his face when he looked into her eyes, but inside, he was definitely crying. Caressing the side of his face, she smiled at him, and he smiled back. He kissed all over her neck and shoulders, then slid out of her and placed her flat on her feet before rinsing off his body.

  He gently ushered her under the water, washing her back with a bar of soap and a cloth, kissing her neck along the way. About ten minutes later, they’d finished cleaning up and went back into his bedroom to get dressed again. He didn’t say much. His expression was cold, icy, and yet, she knew better. He felt deeply, down to his core. She’d felt him in that shower, but knew he’d never speak of it. They exited his apartment, got in his car, and he turned on his stereo system to catch the beat of ‘Boom Bye Bye’ by Buju Banton. She was tickled pink by that and soon, they were both laughing.

  “Brings back memories?” he asked as he drove.

  “Definit
ely.” He reached for her hand and linked their fingers.

  “JJ, I love you.” She almost didn’t hear him. It was like he’d waited until the music was loud, the traffic bad, and the world was falling apart in hopes she didn’t catch what he confessed. He looked so uncomfortable in his skin right then… but she admired him for being brave enough to say it all the same.

  “I—”

  “Don’t say it back. I don’t want you to say it back… just want you to know that I feel such a connection with you. I can’t even explain it. You and me just feels right. It’s not forced. You mean everything to me.” And then, he drew quiet again until they arrived at her house. He reached for his door to let her out, but she placed her hand on his arm.

  “I’ve got it. Just stay in the car. Do you by chance want me to go with you?” she offered. He shook his head. “Okay, go on to Noah.” She leaned over, kissed him, then got out of the car. “Call me if you need me… Call me anyway, even if you think you’re all right.”

  Though she couldn’t see him as she walked away, she knew he was watching her. When she opened the front door of her house, she heard his car backing up. She entered the house and caught him driving down the street. Her place was awfully quiet. She couldn’t wait to grab her daughter and squeeze her tight. Something about the way Olive’s grandmother had asked, ‘You ever have a child die?’ haunted her.

  She realized that the woman had meant it two different ways. Hunter had told her a little about Noah and his mother’s strained relationship. She’d lost her son years before he was even sick. The man was dying for the second time. A mother’s love was a beautiful thing, sometimes a burden, and boy did it come with fine print that not even one’s own heart could read…

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  Death and New Days Ahead

  This is the when Hell is awake…

  It’s the time of day when all the demons sneak away from their inferno, slip into pleasant dreams of the unsuspecting, and turn them into unforgettable nightmares. They play with people’s minds during their waking hours, become shadows dancing along a wall only noticed out of the corner of your eye. They leave a heavy stench in the air, sleep in a cobwebbed crawlspace, and offer a childlike giggle from a basement with a door that’s been sealed shut for years. But where there are demons, there are angels…

  Leon said so. The dead stand in the middle.

  They choose a side by the life they lived. The soulless become part of a dark parade, the saviors sing songs and float. I guess Noah and I were on the wrong side, prophesized in The Book of Raising Hell, Chapter 6, Verse 13, while we raced about in the wilderness, running with the red-eyed wolves…

  Hunter glanced at his phone and noted the time: 3:02 A.M. The light shined from the screen, illuminating the dark room for only a few seconds. It was gloomy in there, something he was used to. It was a bit chilly, too, but he didn’t bother to put his coat back on. The smell of death was so faint, it may have been missed, but his nostrils caught it a time or two. Perhaps it happened only in his mind, a scent of things to come?

  He sat alone with Noah in the dark, occasionally patting the man’s arm. It seemed like the right thing to do. Olive had been forced to go to sleep in her grandmother’s spare bedroom around 1:15 A.M. He and Kylie had to practically drag her away. She’d refused to leave her father’s side and go back to Nita’s. Kylie had stayed, too.

  Kylie was in the living room, asleep with the television on low and an old checkered quilt covering her body. Noah’s mother was in her bedroom, maybe crying, or even cursing God. Noah had told him how peculiar she was. A hippie most of her life, that had turned religious in her fifties. She’d once told him how her son hated her because she still didn’t know who his father was… then off she’d gone about her business.

  Hunter yawned and crossed his arms, his mind playing strange tricks on him.

  Won’t be long now…

  He’d been there for hours and had no plans of stepping away. The nurse was in the kitchen reading from her Kindle and sipping a cup of hot tea. He craned his neck to see if Kylie had awoken after hearing a noise. From what he could tell, she was still asleep. He briefly closed his eyes and ran his hand over his head, back and forth, the touch feeling good. It had been such an emotionally exhausting day. That morning, Kylie had called him and he lost his mind in Nita’s front yard. How embarrassing that had been… The scream that had manifested from the core of his gut had clawed its way out of him and detonated.

  Perhaps it had been a build-up of months of anguish, shit he’d refused to give much thought to? That sounded logical enough. That afternoon, he’d gotten into a ferocious argument with his woman, all over something she had no control over, but it bothered him all the same. Nita had a child with the man, so going with no communication wasn’t an option – and even though he was completely convinced that she would never entertain her ex romantically, just the thought of him extending the question had sent him over the damn edge. Yes, he was jealous… possessive… but only of the ones he loved. One ex-girlfriend had described him as intense in such situations.

  He knew it wasn’t right, but he did see Nita as his in a twisted sense of ownership. But she was a person, an independent woman, not something to be kept in a bottle. Still, it was hard to curb his instincts. He always noticed the way people would stare at them when they’d be out together. Perhaps because they were an interracial couple? Or maybe it was his height and her extraordinary resemblance with Janet Jackson? That could be it. Someone had actually come up to them in Target one afternoon and asked for an autograph. It had made Nita uncomfortable, but he’d gotten a kick out of it.

  Janet Jackson in a Target in Detroit? That was possible. But the way the men looked at her while they were out and about was what would make his heart pound… his head throb… his fists ball. She turned heads. She was a beautiful woman, inside and out. And there wasn’t shit he could do about the fact that others noticed, too.

  He was snatched out of his deliberations when he heard yet another small noise from the living room, as if something had fallen. He looked again, to see that Kylie was moving about on the couch and had dropped something on the floor.

  Kylie had told him as soon as he’d left from Nita’s to come here, Noah had blinked a few times when she’d mentioned his name. He stared at the shape of the man’s spindly fingers above the white sheet. The sight reminded him of an episode of ‘Law and Order’, when a dead man lay on a slab, a sheet pulled up to his hips and his arm dangling to the side. Noah’s eyes were closed, his face as pale as snow, with not a blemish on it. He looked like a damn angel.

  “Hey, remember Leon in prison?” Hunter clasped his hands as he spoke, looking at his friend. “I told you he was my Bunkie after you left. He said sometimes people look real good before they cross over. It’s like the final step. I read something similar in a book of his. I’ve never read so much in my life until Leon came around. It got so bad, I started liking it.” He smiled sadly. “Well, just want you to know that though you’re skinny as fuck, kinda look like a meth head in the body, your face is good… You’re glowing.”

  He chuckled as he rubbed his hands together and stared down at the floor.

  “Remember that time those guys brought me that canary yellow Thunderbird?” The memory unfolded in his mind. “I turned it gold with a midnight black matte interior… worked on that shit for weeks! You wanted to buy that car so bad off me, but I kept having to explain to you that it was already promised to someone else. That’s what happens when you’re the neighborhood black market car detailer. Rich guys come to you, make under-the-table deals. You’ve got a team of car thieves that go shop for what you need and by the time you finish working on it, the car is unrecognizable, untraceable, unfuck-with-able. I was good at it… I loved it, actually, all aspects of it. My grandmother used to ask me, ‘Hunter, why do you love being bad?’ I could never answer her. I just did. It’s sick, isn’t it? If shit is straight and narrow, it’s like I don’t wan
t it. This way though, I could blend my love of cars with my need to be in the streets. But it didn’t cure my longing to hunt people. To fight. Anyway,” he sighed, “I think about cars a lot, man. Fantasize about what I’m going to get once I get on my feet. I’m working on your ride, Noah… She’s starting to look sweet. Thank you again for that. I wonder if you’ll ride out in style like that when it’s all said and done? Would you like that?”

  He got to his feet. When he clasped Noah’s hand, flashes of their life together blew his mind. “You are a good friend… a real good friend. I know you’ve made peace with this. When you and I spoke last month, one of our last conversations, you said, ‘I’m all right with it.’ I knew you were still kind of scared, but you just had really come to terms with the fact there was no need to be, because it was going to happen anyway. I’m angry though, Noah. I’m angry as hell… I’ve had too much time to think about this, too much time knowing that had certain things not happened, like the shit in prison from that pussy that got more time added onto your sentence, you wouldn’t be in this boat right now. Yeah, I know you drank too much. I know you put yourself in this position. But you still don’t deserve this shit.”

  He pulled out his phone and searched through his music library. “Here it is! Remember how we used to listen to this all the time? Listen up.” He selected a song and let it play: ‘Rockstar,’ by Nickelback. “Those were the days, man… those were the days… We both knew the lyrics of this song, inside and out. Sitting around drinking beer, laughing, smoking, talking about our plans, what we wanted to do… We even talked about starting a business together a couple times. That’s what I loved about you. You were about your shit, like me. We got up and did shit. We made things happen. We refused to be broke for too long; we didn’t make excuses. We just did what we had to do. Guess what? I’m working security at a casino. That’s funny, isn’t it? I’m getting ready to start boxing again, too… same people. May as well get paid for kicking someone’s ass, right? Doesn’t feel like work if you like it. That’s what you always used to say…” He blinked back his emotions. “Life’s too short, not enough time to do everything that we want to do.”