by Unknown
"You're my girl, right?...Right?" He smiles a little, and I nod against his cheek, but he pulls back to look into my face. "Say it."
I grip his shirt tighter, drawing him back to me, and kiss his mouth again. I say the words as I pull back, "I'm your girl."
He nods at me, smoothing a hand over my messy blonde hair. "Get in the backseat."
"I wanna watch you til I can't see you anymore." And he sighs, but he knows I'm scared and he's gonna have to let me do things my way.
"Ok."
He pulls the keys from the ignition and stares at them in his open palm before extending them to me without a word. I take them in trembling fingers, gripping them tight, and he opens the door and slides out of his seat.
When his sneakers hit the concrete he turns back into the truck, leaning over the seat as he reaches underneath, removing his gun. I swallow hard as he checks the round before tucking it into the waistband of his jeans, pulling his t-shirt over it to conceal it. He gives me a long solemn look before closing the door.
I watch him walk around the front of the truck and he doesn't get ten steps away from the vehicle before I panic.
He can't go.
I fucking panic. I open my passenger's side door and slide out of my seat and as soon as he hears the door click he's running back to the truck.
No sooner do I get the door shut then he's right there when I turn around, palm on my throat and fingers clamped around my jaw, slamming me hard against the closed door. "What the fuck are you doing?! I told you to wait in the truck!"
"I'm coming with you."
"Are you fucking insane?"
"Tony won't kill you if I'm with you."
"What the fuck gives you that idea?"
"You think Tony is gonna let me witness a murder?!"
"No, but there will be a fucking double murder in Windsor Hills today if you don't get back in this fucking truck right now." He pushes me harder against the door when he says it, and I wince a little.
"At least we'll both be dead then," I spit the words in his face. But I mean it. I don't know what I would do if he didn't come back.
"You are one crazy bitch, you know that? You think you know how this dealer shit works, but you fucking don't! You can't protect me! You just have to trust that I'm gonna come back, ok? OK!?"
He tightens his grip on my jaw, shaking me a bit. I can tell he's freaking out about all of this. It's like a fucking nightmare.
"Ok." I wriggle in his grasp and he lets me go.
"Get in the fucking truck." He stands there until I crawl into the backseat and lay down.
I peer over the seat and out the back window as he scurries across the street into an alley between two buildings. I'm glad it's the middle of the day. I wouldn't be caught dead over here at night. Or I guess I should say if I were caught here at night, I would be dead.
God, I wish I had a fucking watch. He's gone for five, seven, thirty minutes. It feels like hours ticking by...
Fuck this.
I stare at the door handle, waiting, deciding, and I finally pull it toward me, slowly until it clicks. I crawl out of the seat and shut the door.
What the fuck am I doing?
But I have to go find him.
He has to come back to me...
Tony gets a glimpse of me as soon as I creep up between the buildings, and his eyes narrow at me. Judging by the look on Tony's face, Lex looks over his shoulder curiously, his eyes widening when he sees me.
But as soon as he turns back around, he comes face to face with the barrel of Tony's 9 millimeter gun.
I gasp, "no!" and I feel Lex's hand reaching behind him to push me against the wall of the building, holding me there.
"What's the bitch doing here, Lex?" Tony says the words through clenched teeth, and Lex swallows hard as his body goes cold.
"I told her to wait in the truck."
"Well apparently she doesn't know how to take orders. Why did you even bring that rotten cunt with you on a business meeting? First you fuck me over with bad drugs, then you bring a whore with you to our meeting. I don't think you have your head on straight, Big Man...maybe I should just blow it off."
"Fuck you Tony, you know that shit from Ojai wasn't Lex's!" I squeak the words out from against the wall, trying to escape his hold.
"Would you shut the fuck up!?" Lex screams over his shoulder, his voice strained and maniacal, struggling to push me back, but I step around him.
And Tony points the gun at me. "I don't think I was talking to you, you fucking coke whore."
In an instant Lex is in front of me, gun drawn and pointed straight back at Tony, jaw clenched, brows knitted, fire in his eyes. He lowers his voice, "No, you weren't. You were talking to me, motherfucker. So now what?"
Tony scoffs a little, almost a laugh, cocking his head to the side. "Oh, it's like that huh?"
"Yeah, it's just like that, bitch."
It's a standoff.
Neither moves. Neither blinks.
Silence.
I don't even think anyone is breathing.
He glares at Lex for a long second, fuming, and pulls his hand to the side, firing a shot down the alley between the buildings and I scream as Lex pushes me harder against the wall behind him, body still covering me.
Tony hesitates, then steps forward, pushing the barrel of the gun to Lex's neck, the metal now hot from the propulsion of the bullet and Lex sucks in his breath through his teeth. A strangled noise escapes his throat as the metal burns his skin, singeing his flesh, marking him permanently. I squeak out a whimper, and his hand grips me strong behind his back.
Tony's nose to nose with him, gun to his neck, Lex's gun pushed against Tony's chest. Either one could be dead in an instant.
"Tell me that white from Ojai wasn't yours...TELL ME!" Tony spits the words in his face, pulling the hammer back on the pistol with a click, and Lex holds his breath.
His voice is straining in his throat, "You fucking know it wasn't mine. I don't run shit to Ojai, and all my blow is quality. Don't act like you don't know me and my business."
"Fine...but if I get one more shotty deal and it even smells like you had something to do with it...you're dead. You and your cunt bitch."
As soon as Tony is out of earshot, Lex snaps his head around to me, spitting out his words through gritted teeth, "I should fucking kill you with my bare hands for that shit."
He grips my shoulders hard, shaking me, but I'm crying, silent tears slipping down my face. He exhales, slumping as the tension leaves his body and he places his hands on my ribcage. I can feel them trembling against my sides as he puts his face in my neck and I clutch the back of his head, tears falling faster down my cheeks but I still try not to make a sound.
"If you ever...ever...ever pull some shit like that again..." his words trail off as I run my fingertips slowly over his face, my hands trembling and tears still in my eyes. I'm not even listening to him, I'm just glad he's alive.
He rests his forehead against mine and sighs, "Let's get the fuck outta here."
Chapter Nine
"Fuck, I need to get stoned after some shit like that..." His voice is shaky as I follow him into the house once we return after that fucked up run-in with Tony.
He immediately slinks into the back room to retrieve a blunt he rolled for the night before to smoke with the boys. As he sits down in his recliner with a deep sigh I lean down over him.
"C'mere, let me see your neck..." I touch his jaw gently, trying to turn his face, but he jerks it away in aggravation.
"No! Stop. I'm fine," he grunts, tucking his head to hide his wound from me. The last thing he wants to feel like after a stand-off in and alley with his gun pushed to some guy's chest is a little pussy who needs a band-aid.
"Lex, just let me see it." I straddle his lap, craning my neck to peek under his jaw and get a glimpse of his singed flesh, my face screwing up at the sight of it.
"It's just a fucking burn, ok? Get off me! Damn!" he groans and pushes back a
gainst me, but I grab his face gently in my hands.
"Stop trying to be a fucking hardass...it looks bad, Lex." I struggle with him. Damn, he's so stubborn. "Stop!" I bark loudly and he sighs in defeat, relaxing under my touch. "Here...just let me look..." I tilt his head back gently, turning it to the side and he groans deep in his chest, twisting up his face in pain as his blistered skin stretches across the scald. "Does it hurt?"
He swallows hard, sighing, "Yeah."
He winces as I run a finger over the skin, burned smooth from the hot metal of the gun and a shiver runs down my body as I flashback to just an hour ago. I shake the scene from my head as I gently kiss his neck, over his jaw and up his cheek. He sighs and smiles a little as I nuzzle his nose but he groans impatiently.
"I need to get high, Leala...we can play doctor later, ok?"
He pushes back on me gently, lifting himself from the chair and crossing the room to sit on the couch. I collapse into his chair with a sigh, still not sure that my mind has completely wrapped around the events of this afternoon. He fires up the blunt, and the sweet smell pours slowly through the living room as he smokes, passing it to me occasionally.
We smoke the whole thing in silence. Well, he smokes most of it, and I'm waiting for him to just pass out on the couch at any moment having smoked himself to sleep, but he just sits there, head back, eyes half-open staring at the ceiling, mouth agape.
"What would you have done if I had...you know...gotten whacked today?" he finally speaks.
"What?"
"You know...like, if shit got rough with me and Tony." He peers at me out of the corner of his eyes.
"You mean, if you got shot?" I ask uneasily, not really sure why he's venturing into this hypothetical situation.
He grins lazily. "Yeah...like, if he killed my ass." He giggles a little, but I tense up inside. Shit like that just isn't funny to me, I don't know why he doesn't get that.
"Don't say some fucked up shit like that," I mutter, but he keeps giggling, higher than a kite.
His chuckles slow to a stop. "No really, like...what would you have done?" He lifts his head a little to look at me curiously.
"I woulda...fucking flipped probably," I confess slowly with my eyes focused down, shifting uncomfortably. "Like...I don't even know."
His face softens when I finally meet his eyes with mine, and I hope he can see the worry there, the fear, the absolute relief that he's still here in front of me, alive.
"That's why I had to go with you," I continue, "I don't know what I woulda done if you didn't come back."
He's silent for a moment. "C'mere..." he beckons me softly, a grin tugging at the corner of his mouth. I hesitate to get up from my chair, smirking a bit, and he laughs, "C'mere, girl..."
I cross the room to sink down into the couch next to him, and he throws his arm around my shoulders, pulling me into his side. I curl my legs up onto the couch, head on his shoulder, and I sigh deep and relieved, resting against him for a moment.
He takes his free hand across his body, hooking it under my knee to pull me across his lap until I'm straddling his legs and he drinks in my body through half-open eyes, his lids heavy from chiefing. He grins at me lazily and I can't fight down my giggles. Pot makes him so lazy. It's a nice change of pace from the coke, which makes him like a fucking rabbit.
He slides down on the couch until his ass is barely on the cushions and I have to scoot up on his lap to keep from falling through his widely-spread knees. He moans a little when I sit up on him, my lap directly over his dick, thick in his sweats but not hard, because, well...weed doesn't do that to him. He smokes to relax, and trust me we've been there and done that enough times...he stays relaxed.
I push the hood back off of his head and kiss his forehead right at his hairline, my fingers scratching gently at his scalp, and another moan escapes from deep in his chest. His tongue snakes out spreading wide and warm across my neck, licking and sucking at my throat, the sensations heightened by the THC in my blood.
Fuck, how does every single touch feel better when we're on drugs?
I push my hands up under his hoodie and he lifts his arms as I take the thick fabric over his head gently, giggling a little when his white t-shirt comes halfway up his body and gets stuck under his arms. I toss the sweatshirt to the floor and he smoothes down his shirt, a small strip of skin still peeking out because his sweats are so low on his hips.
My fingers play on the sensitive skin right above the waistband of gray cotton and I bite my lip as the muscles in his abdomen contract, quivering a bit. I can feel his cock beginning to stiffen underneath me, but I know that because he's so toasted getting him up is going to be a slow process, if it even happens.
He smoothes his hands up my thighs and bites at his bottom lip, tipping his head back against the couch. "You wanna?" And I know exactly what he's asking for.
"Lex, you never wanna fuck when you're stoned..." I say it knowing that it's not that he never wants to...he just usually can't.
He grips my hips with his large hands, his long fingers almost reaching the middle of my back, "I just wanna make you feel good." And he's giving me that lazy grin again. He blinks his glassy eyes slowly, his lids heavy and red at the lashline from the drugs, and I flood between my thighs as his tongue runs along the inside of his mouth.
He leans forward on the couch, holding my lower back as he leans over me, pressing his chest to mine and I wrap my arms around his torso, clutching him under his shoulder blades. His tongue runs out along my neck again and I dip my head to kiss his mouth, slow and lazy and with lots of tongue.
God, that tongue...
I grind my hips down onto his lap slowly but I know better than to start this shit with him because one of us, or both of us, are going to end up very unsatisfied. It always happens that way when he gets blazed. But he's insistent today, "C'mon." And before I can object he's pushing me onto my feet and dragging me into his bedroom.
He slips out of his sneakers and flops down onto the bed, rolling over flat onto his back and stretching his arms overhead, legs spread just slightly. I grin at him as I slide off my shoes and socks, crawling up slowly over the foot of the bed, stopping to tug his socks off of his feet before running my hands up from his shins to his thighs.
He moans a little and shifts his hips and I see his dick pressing up against his sweats, but not in a way that's suggesting he's gonna get me off anytime soon.
I pull myself up onto his thighs and smile down at him as I run my hands up his torso, bunching his t-shirt up at his chest, leaning down to kiss that delicate skin between his bellybutton and the top of his sweats. With my lips still on his skin, I peer up into his eyes, grinning a bit and sneaking my tongue out as he watches me under heavy eyelids. I feel his hips twitch again and his dick is pressing harder against my leg, but I know it's still not enough. This could take all fucking afternoon.
I slide up onto his body, stretching forward to lay my chest flat against his and he rolls me over onto my back. I fumble with the button and zipper of my jeans and he tugs them down my hips anxiously, chuckling a little as I kick them off my feet onto the floor.
He bends my knees up and presses them open, sinking his weight down against me, and I rock against his hips a little, creating some friction that will hopefully get him going. He reaches around over his head to pull off his shirt and I smooth my hands up his torso from his hips to his chest, fingers splaying across the tattoos printed onto his skin. His lips cover mine as he tugs at my shirt and I lift my arms, breaking the kiss to allow him to draw the fabric off over my head.
We're both panting now, and I feel him half-hard between my legs, pressing against my center, my panties soaked with desire for him, but I hope it doesn't go to waste.
"Can you get it up for me, baby?" I finally breathe the words against his lips as he unsnaps my bra and I slip my arms out, tossing it to the floor. He nods and presses harder into me; maybe mimicking the motions of fucking will get him in the right mind frame.
I reach into his sweats impatiently and he's naked underneath and God, he knows I love that shit. It's like a fucking surprise. He's thick and heavy in my hand, and I feel him stiffen a little when I pump him slowly up and down, and he's almost there...fuck, just a little more and it'll be good enough so we can get on with this.
I pull my hand out and tug his sweats down over his hips and ass, and he wiggles out of them while I pull my panties off. He settles back down against me and I feel him reach down between our bodies, propping himself on one elbow so he can roll on his side a little. I watch him wrap those long slender fingers around his dick, working it slow, trying to get it all the way up.
I kiss and lick at his neck, being careful around the tender skin of his fresh wound, moaning into his ear a bit to encourage him, hoping silently that he gets it up because holy fuck do I want it inside of me now more than ever.
He grits his teeth, panting a little, his strokes quicker. "Shit...c'mon", and I'm breathing in his ear, running my fingertips up and down over the bumps and grooves of his lean torso.
"C'mon Lex, get it up for me." I reach down to stroke his inner thigh slowly, running my tongue along the outside of his ear, and he's grunting, frustrated.
"Fuck, just...just give me a minute, ok?"
And he's working his shit out, but I finally stop him.
"Just put it in me baby, c'mon."
And I roll onto my back, pulling my knees up and open and he guides the head to my slit, soaked and throbbing from watching him stroke himself, wishing his hand were my pussy. He thrusts into me swiftly, but it's just not the same as it usually is, but I'm so horny I could give a fuck less.
I grip his shoulders as he starts a quick rhythm, but even though he's still thick and solid, he's not as hard as he usually is, and the friction isn't getting me off. I sigh, frustrated, and grip his shoulders tighter.
"C'mon Lex, fuck me like you want it," I whisper, hoping that him picking up his pace might solve my pleasure problem, but I can tell he's just not into it.
Fuck. I knew this was gonna happen.
"Lex...Lex, stop." I push on his shoulders and he slows his hips to a stop. "If you can't...we don't have to..."
