by Nikki Wild
“You know how to hot wire a car too, don’t you? I think I heard you mention that before as well.”
“Who the hell cares? Is this going somewhere?”
I moved to stand up and the room got tense. The big meathead in the ill-fitting suit took a step toward me and Ortiz tapped the butt of the gun with his fingertip.
“I’m getting some water,” I said. “If you’re gonna shoot me for having a dry mouth, then you’re probably gonna kill me anyway, so let’s just get on with it.”
“Go ahead,” he grumbled, motioning toward my kitchen.
“How the fuck did you guys get in here, anyway? That big son of a bitch doesn’t look like he can do anything quietly. He even breaths like a stuck moose.”
“I’ll stick you, ya little prick,” he growled.
“Enough,” shouted Ortiz. “It doesn’t matter how we got in here, but what does matter is the job you’re gonna do for me. Don’t worry, you’ll be paid well for it. Five grand.”
Five thousand dollars was a lot of money. It could make a real difference for me right now. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t at least do a double take when I heard the number. “Not happening,” I said. “I already told you, I’m done with that stuff. Sorry I didn’t answer the phone, I could have saved ya’ll a trip down here.”
I pressed a palm into the counter top and drank down a cool glass of water. It was the best thing I’d ever tasted in my life.
“I must not be making myself clear,” said Ortiz. “You don’t have a choice in the matter.” He stepped behind me. I resisted the urge to wheel around and swing on him. “So, you better open your ears and pay attention.”
I turned to face him. His two men circled around to either side of us. “What is it?”
He dipped his head and stepped back. “I thought you’d see it my way. As you are probably aware, my crew has been in a fight for territory with a group who currently controls the Westhaven neighborhood.”
“How exciting,” I said dryly.
“Yeah, well, my counterpart in the Westhaven group is a fucking amateur named ‘Money’.”
Money? Jesus Christ, the guy’s name is Money? I needed to go back to sleep.
Anyway, he has been testing my patience pretty hard lately. We’re looking to hit back—you know, slow their roll a little bit. They need to know that nobody takes from Damon Ortiz without out there being consequences.”
“I probably sound like a broken record at this point but, again, what the fuck does this have to do with me?”
“I’ll get to the point,” he said. “Money drives around town in a custom classic Mustang. He treats that car like it’s his life.”
“So?”
“So, you’re gonna steal it for us.”
The hell I was.
I folded my arms and stared him down.
“I’ve wanted to get that car away from him for as long as he’s had it. Personally, I don’t give a damn about the thing—I like brand new rides—but to see him take that hit would do a lot. And when Eddie reminded me about how good you were with cars… it just seemed like a match made in heaven.” He turned to each of his guys and they laughed with him on cue.
I needed to remember to punch Eddie in the stomach the next time I saw him.
“That’s all,” he said. “Now, was that so hard?” They were the same words Riley had used the other night. The irony wasn’t lost on me.
Ortiz grabbed the pistol and pulled it free. I didn’t blink. “Also, you might need this,” he said, slamming it down on the counter next to me. “Take care of it because I want it back after the job is done.”
“That’s if I do it,” I said.
“Oh, you’ll goddamn do it,” he said, “because if I have to come back here again, my next visit isn’t going to be nearly so pleasant. Remember, Eason, we did you a favor by putting you on the payroll when you lived on the street. Now, it’s your obligation to repay your debt.”
The three of them filed out of my apartment into the early morning blackness. Stopping at the threshold, Ortiz looked back. “On your table is a sheet of paper with the description of the car and the street he normally parks it on. Don’t fuck this up.”
Riley
I couldn’t wait until our next meeting, I had to speak to him. The uncertainty in it was killing me. I didn’t know what was going to happen, and that didn’t sit well with me. The best thing to do was get everything out on the table and handle it like adults.
I rapped out three quick knocks just below the hanging number on his door.
“…Hi.” It was as much of a question as it was a greeting.
“Hey,” I said. “Do you have a few minutes to talk? It’s about the other night.”
Troy’s eyes flared and I knew this wasn’t going to be easy. “Sure,” he answered. “Come on in.”
“I thought we weren’t meeting until next week,” he said, his back to me as he led me inside.
“I know, but something has been bothering me.”
He was wearing jeans and a t-shirt. Above his brow on the left side was a small bruise that I could only guess came from one of his workouts.
“What’s up?” he asked. “Do you need to make sure I’m really living here again?”
“Troy, stop it. I’m being serious.”
His phone chirped and he walked to the table to check it. “Hold on a second,” he said. Then, he disappeared around the corner to his bedroom and began a quiet conversation with someone on the other end of the line. I decided to take a look around.
The simple way his apartment was organized didn’t reflect the complex guy that he was. Along the far wall was a plain grey sofa that had three large cushions. Next to it, was a small table that fit just into the space before the wall. On the table was a picture of a girl he’d never spoken about.
Directly across from the sofa was a small television on a black stand. Other than a few plants and a bookcase that was stuffed to capacity, that was it. I hadn’t really looked it over the last time I came by, but it didn’t appear that he spent much time here. That part did make sense. Troy was the kind of guy who had to keep moving.
“Can I get you something to drink?” he said, popping back into the room.
Watching him try to play the role of host was adorable, if not a little awkward. “I’m fine, thanks.”
I let him lead the way to the sofa. I sat down first, on the far cushion, and he situated himself with enough of a buffer between us that I didn’t get too nervous.
Troy took a long drink from his bottle of beer, then set it on the coffee table. “I’m listening.”
“You’re gonna make this hard, aren’t you?”
“I’m not trying to,” he said. “You wanted to talk, and I said I’d listen, so that’s what I’m doing.”
As I sat there looking at him, everything I’d prepared in my head disappeared. He had an obvious effect that left me tongue tied. I knew that if I tried to say anything, it would come out as word salad. So, I did all that I could, which was sit and stare.
I was crazy for coming back here and thinking I wouldn’t fall into this trap again. It was getting harder and harder to reject what I was feeling.
The corner of his mouth ticked and I knew I wasn’t alone. That same chemistry we found the other night was back, and it was just how I remembered it. He was feeling the effects, too.
We each shifted in our seats at the same time to say something. Our knees bumped together and that ignited a spark which neither one of us could deny. There was no turning back now.
Troy faced me and I saw my own reflection in his gold-rimmed eyes. My hair was in place, aside from a few exhausted strands that had pulled free and wrapped themselves harmlessly under my chin.
As if he could read my mind, Troy captured one of the strands between his thumb and finger, and tucked it back behind my ear. Both of us knew we should say something, but I don’t think he could find the words either. It was the first time that I really saw who he was.
<
br /> His minty breath blew between his pursed lips and reached my skin with a cold tickle. I tucked my ear to my shoulder and that was the moment he chose to attack. Exposing my neck like that triggered the animal instinct in him to pounce.
He jabbed my collarbone with his hungry tongue and dragged it the length of flesh all the way up to the lobe of my ear. His teeth sunk gently into it and he tugged. The warmth that was his mouth, combined with the eagerness of his teeth, made it damp between my legs.
My hand fell to his lap, landing on the curved bulge of his jeans. In that moment, all I could think of was the fact that I needed to give him pleasure. It could have been the rush of committing to such a dangerous act, or maybe it was because I was so incredibly attracted to him, but I had to have in my mouth.
I slithered away from Troy at a snail’s pace. Breaking from his kiss was one of the hardest things to do. He let me slip in between his legs and press over his swelling cock. He put his hands around my shoulders and gently massaged me as I unzipped him.
“Take your shirt off,” I begged. I wanted to see just how much I could make the muscles in his stomach tighten up when I closed my mouth around him.
Stopping briefly to pop open the button on his jeans, he pinched the hem of his shirt and lifted it slowly over his head. His pretty body was revealed much in the same way a magician uncovers his final act. It was a thing of beauty to watch—full of both anticipation and suspense.
He worked from side to side as I tugged his pants down. Troy’s eager cock struggled against the thin material that made up his underwear. I pushed my fingers through the opening in the front and took hold of him.
Once I worked him free, I squeezed tightly, trying to wrap as much of my hand around him as I could. He groaned, heavy and sweet, when I took him in my mouth.
“Yes,” he whispered, as if what was happening to him made every last concern in his life melt away. “Do it like that.”
My lips and tongue traveled the length of his shaft as I took him as deep as I could manage. He was long and strong, and I couldn’t make it all the way to his base.
“You’re so good at that.”
It popped out of my mouth on one of the more vigorous withdraws, so I took the opportunity to kiss gently at its head. This seemed to put him into overdrive, as he launched himself off the sofa and switched places with me.
My feet whipped through the air like feathers caught in the wind. I was planted firmly on my backside in the corner of the couch with my legs splayed wide. This was really happening.
Troy ripped my pants down and dove into me tongue first. He danced over my pulsing clit with the tip of it, using measured circles. I writhed beneath his powerful jaw as he moved his head around, licking the insides of my thighs ever so briefly, then returning his focus to my button.
At the same time, he pushed two fingers inside of me and worked them roughly in and out.
“I’m so horny,” he growled. “When I get inside of you, you’re gonna feel it.”
I had no doubt.
By the way he was so effortlessly throwing me around, I knew I was in for a wild ride. My pulse quickened and a bit of sweat formed on my brow as Troy darted his tongue into me. Right as I was about to come, he lifted me off the couch and held me high in the air.
My legs fell over his shoulders and kicked at his back. I had to duck my head so it wouldn’t hit the ceiling. The lapse in concentration threatened to make me lose my momentum, but he kept the pace well enough that I realized I was about to have any experience like no other.
“Oh, my God! What are you doing?” I giggled.
Troy never acknowledged my words as he continued to diligently work his tongue in and out of my hole.
“You’re crazy!”
He bent his knees and ducked down at the last second to keep me lower than the frame that separated us from his bedroom. I bent over him, and buried my face in his hair. The scent of the woodsy shampoo he used filled my nose and made my feet clench up.
He tossed me to the bed from at least six feet in the air. It was a huge mattress with a plush pillow top that bounced me almost as high as where he dropped me from. On the way down, he caught me in his arms and laid me before him.
“Open that pussy for me, baby.”
I fell back and spread myself with my fingers while he reached across my body and pulled a condom from his bedside drawer. He had that crazed look on his face again.
I watched, trying my best to keep my eyes from swimming in my head, as he unrolled the thin latex down the length of his member. He ran out of condom several inches short of where most guys did, but it would have to work.
Troy guided the head of his cock toward my opening. Everything in him flexed as it found its mark.
“Ohhhhh,” I cooed as he pushed in.
He started with smooth strokes, but couldn’t hold himself back for long. The headboard of his bed hammered the wall so hard that I hoped none of his neighbors were home.
“Troy! Not so loud.”
My words, I’m sure, went unrecognized as he flipped me to my belly and went harder. I braced myself against the wooden backing as he drove himself forward with a need I’d never felt before. We beat a drum solo on that wall as somebody in one of the other units yelled and banged an angry fist against the other side. Then… we kept going.
“Tell me you like it,” he snarled.
“I love it. I wanna ride you.”
“Be my bad girl.”
We rolled on the bed, finally offering some reprieve from the noise. With Troy on his back, I spun to face him without ever letting him leave me. I sat down hard while he threw his hips at me from the bottom.
Each clapping penetration made good vibes shoot through my fingers and toes. I sleeved him so tightly that every jerk and twitch of his cock had a consequence on me.
“I’m close.”
“Let’s come together.”
Somewhere in the frenzy, we’d inverted ourselves on the bed. Troy’s feet pressed into the pillowtop for leverage, but his head and upper body bobbed precariously over the edge.
“I wanna kiss you,” I pleaded.
His stomach rippled with effort as he lifted himself to meet my mouth. I kept bouncing on him, and he hit back with the same timing. The second our lips touched, I exploded. Everything contracted and released. The squeeze on his cock made him go, too.
I tried to scream, but he’d caught my tongue and was sucking it, along with any voice, right out of my mouth.
My butt tightened and pressured his thighs as any remaining space between us disappeared. My clit pressed into his warm body and the tiniest movements against it prolonged my ecstasy.
Troy held me so hard against him that I couldn’t get a full breath. The condom saved us from any further complications in our so far, interesting relationship, but I couldn’t help but feel a little bit robbed of something. I knew it was crazy, and I chalked it up to emotions, but in that moment, I badly wanted to know how I would feel if he let go of it all inside me. Sex can do crazy things to even the soberest of minds.
Troy didn’t say anything when he stood up to take a shower. I got a sweet peck on the cheek, and that was all I needed.
As I rotated on the bed and wrapped myself in the warm blanket, my eyes landed on his gym bag. Spilling out of it were various sports tapes, a towel, and two different types of gloves. It really put into perspective how crazy I was about him. And how crazy that thought I’d allowed myself was. He was a cage fighter with a life that couldn’t be any more different from my own. And here I was, kicking around ideas about what it would be like if that condom didn’t exist at the very moment.
The sound of an old handle turning was quickly followed by the groan and rattle of the pipes in the wall. A moment later, I heard the showerhead cough its cold spray and then a steady stream cascade onto acrylic. Wow… not five minutes removed from having the best orgasm of my life, and I was already fantasizing about what the water hitting Troy Eason’s should
ers might look like.
I stretched out and rolled the other way. The bedding wrapped around me like a cocoon. As I let my eyes lazily float over the things in his room, something snatched my attention.
It was sitting on the far end of his dresser and was as black as oil. A determined beam of moonlight showed through the gap in his curtains and illuminated it. I sat up to get a better view.
Oh, no.
My heart rate doubled and my spirit sagged. Troy Eason had a gun.
Troy
The call came in at half past one. I was on my way out of the locker room after Jiu jitsu class when I felt the phone vibrate in my pocket. I didn’t recognize the number.
“Hello?”
“Is this Troy?”
“Yeah, who’s this?”
“Great! Troy, this is Dave Gold. I was calling because I have a fight for you.”
I couldn’t believe it. This was the call I’d been waiting for my whole life. It would be the first time fighting as a professional—a first time earning a paycheck.
“Troy, are you there, Son?”
“Yeah, sorry Mr. Gold. It just came sooner than I expected.”
“Oh. I thought you said you were ready to go…”
“Don’t get me wrong,” I said. “I’m more than ready. You caught me off guard is all. Who is it?”
“Ah, excellent. You’re going to fight a kid named Brandon Webster out of Michigan. Heard of him?”
“Yes Sir, I have. I’ll be ready.”
Everybody had heard of Webster. He was champion level kickboxer before getting into MMA. He’d only had a few fights in the M.W.F.C. but he’d dominated all his opponents to date.
“Even better news,” he continued, “is that you’ll be fighting here at home so you’ll be on the big stage for your crowd at your first event.”
“What’s the money like?” I asked.
“Oh, right, the money. I like when a fighter can get to the point. Have you hired an agent yet?”
“No,” I laughed. “Not even close; should I?”
“It wouldn’t be a bad idea. Get yourself an agent and a manager. You won’t have to pay them anything up front and I’m pretty sure you’re gonna have plenty of them jumping at the chance to represent you. You’ve got the look and the skills to make a lot of money in this sport. Hell, I won’t be surprised if I lose you to one of the bigger promotions within two years.”
