by Nikki Wild
“Troy… here?” It was all I could manage to say between my stunted breaths. He pushed me back on to a large spread of thick, padded mats.
“Why not? This is where I’m home. It’s where I do my best work. And, if I remember correctly, you wanted to see what I do with my time.”
“But… what if somebody-”
There was no use in discussing “what ifs” in Troy’s world. Time was precious when you didn’t have a safety net.
His free arm wrapped under my butt, and in an instant, I was off my feet. The big man bulled forward with me in his grasp, and pitched us both forward, sending us down on the mat with a soft thud. He cradled me against his chest so that he would absorb most of the impact.
“Ooof.” Still, some of the air was pushed out of my lungs when we landed.
“This,” he said, “is where I want you.”
I propped myself on my elbows as he caught me with a peck at the corner of my puckered mouth. “You like this, don’t you?” he whispered.
I wasn’t sure of anything anymore, outside of the fact that I was flat on my back and completely vulnerable beneath one of the most dangerous men I’d ever met.
“I…”
Troy shoved my legs apart and wriggled his body in a way that pushed my skirt up my thighs. It was a body-hugging fit. The poly-cotton fabric squeezed me so tightly that I thought it might tear at the seams.
The hard point of his hip bone bumped my labia and it sent a shiver through me. The thin gym pants he wore slid effortlessly over my wet cotton panties.
“Tonight,” he growled, “I can’t wait. I can’t go slow.”
“Take me how you want me,” I cooed. He was right. There wasn’t time for play. The tension was already too high. I needed him to fill me.
He shoved his pants and underwear down, letting his manhood spring out. As he adjusted his angle, I felt the end of it dig into the flesh of my butt. Troy let out a low sigh that made me feel just right.
He pushed his way up my skirt and grabbed a handful of my panties. He pulled on them and I pushed. They were off me in the blink of an eye. I kicked my legs, but the panties didn’t seem to want to fall any lower than my ankles, and combined with his weight on me, I was stuck in place.
It didn’t matter much. The moment was on us, and it was inevitable. Troy wrestled his shirt up and let it snap back behind his head. His arms still wore the sleeves, but his lean torso glowed bare over me. He was tan and taut, with the vibrant tone you might find on someone who spent their days on a sunny beach, and not on the streets of late-fall Chicago.
His tool pushed aggressively into me. I was wet enough to take it, but not without a bit of pain. When a whimper that I couldn’t hold back escaped my lips, Troy guided my face to his shoulder. He held it there and let me bite down lightly on his firm flesh as he sunk in deeper.
My body strained to take all of him on that first thrust. He moved at a careful, but demanding pace. When he found the spot he liked, then withdrew, I was rewarded with the pleasure I’d earned.
The temperature in me climbed as he slid out and pushed in. Every ridge and intricacy on him, I felt in the depths of me.
“Troy, you’re making me cream.”
“I’m so fucking hard; I’m gonna burst.”
I interlaced my fingers behind his neck. Troy pumped into me with long, furious strokes. He steadied himself with his hand pressed just below my navel. It pinned me to the ground so definitely, that I may as well have had a building on top of me.
When he stretched his thumb to brush my nub, I lost it. I guess he did, too.
As I squirmed around and tried to contain the spasms that took me, I felt him twitch urgently inside. He pumped twice more, letting his tight balls smack loudly against my butt, then pulled out and erupted against me.
Once he’d exercised every last demon inside of him, he lurched forward and dragged me a few feet over the cool mats. If I hadn’t been hanging on so desperately to his neck, he would have gone roughshod right over me.
Troy collapsed, again between my legs. We laid there, intertwined, as the heat from our bodies rose above us. The smooth skin on his washboard stomach made him glide against my still-slick tightness.
He was perfect right there. I knew I couldn’t ever completely contain a man like him. He wasn’t made to be contained. The thought made me remember the gun. I was so scared when I first saw it. He said it was for protection… but why? If there was anybody in this city who could take care of himself without the need of a weapon, it was him. It just didn’t make sense.
There was also the way his gaze hit the floor when he noticed me looking at it. It was the first time since I’d met him that he had anything in his eyes other than lust or challenge.
If he was lying to me about the gun, I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. The professional side of me made things very clear. A felon in possession of a firearm required immediate termination from the program and a call to law enforcement. The personal side of our relationship muddied things. I cared about him now. And not just in a “charitable” kind of way. What if Troy needed that gun more than I knew?
The possibilities rolled around in my head like loose marbles. The only thing I could do was believe him. As I laid there, looking at the ceiling, I prayed it wouldn’t come back to bite me in the ass.
Troy
That girl was wild. After we left the gym, she insisted on dragging me back to her place. I was up for it. There wasn’t one thing about her personality that suggested she had that kind of streak in her, but it was there. She blew my mind with it.
It was almost two when I walked in. I dropped on the floor and spread my arms and legs out to stretch my back. I was supposed to be at the gym in about four hours, but I felt like I’d already had my workout. Still, there was no way I was going to miss out on a training session with a fight scheduled just a couple of weeks away. I wanted to be as sharp as possible.
Just as I closed my eyes to drift off to sleep, there was a shuffling of feet outside my door.
Of course there was. Ain’t no rest for the wicked.
I sat bolt upright. There was a thud on the door and I sprang to my feet. Someone must have watched me come in. I hadn’t even kicked my shoes of yet, so I ran straight for it. I flung the door open, but no one was there. I heard footsteps to my right.
Two dark figures were sprinting across the parking lot. I took up the chase after them. They had a good-sized lead on me, but I doubted they had the stamina to keep it.
Who was messing with me now?
I ran as hard as I could out to the street. There was no moon in the sky so I was having to navigate by way of the streetlamps. Fuck! Where’d they go?
I caught a flash of movement; they’d crossed to the other side. I resumed pursuit. If these were just some asshole kids trying to pull a prank, I’d make ‘em regret it.
“Hurry up,” I heard one yell to the other. “He’s catchin’ up.”
You’re damn right I am.
They turned down an alley. At the end of it, there was a six-foot retaining wall. I knew I’d make up some ground there. Now, I was close enough to make out a little more detail. I didn’t recognize either one, but I could tell they were both wearing all black clothes. One of them was carrying something in his left hand.
The first guy got over the wall without a problem, but his buddy struggled to make it. I charged down the alley to reach him. Just as I made a grab for his kicking foot, the first guy reached back and hauled his buddy the rest of the way over the barrier. I heard them both land with a thud on the other side.
The near-miss must have scared the hell out of them because by the time I planted my foot in the wall and catapulted over it, they were up and running like jackrabbits toward the street on the other side.
“Give it up,” I yelled, as I closed in again. “I’m not even close to slowing down.”
They turned the corner less than fifteen feet in front of me. I hooked a hand at the edge of
the building and went around it like I was fired out of a sling shot.
The sounds of car doors closing made me break stride. Taillights flared red and lit up the brick face of the building. They had a ride waiting.
The tires squealed but I didn’t give up the chase just yet. “Go, go, go!”
The smell of toasted rubber filled my nostrils as I grabbed on to the car’s spoiler and ran with it a few more steps before resigning to the fact that I couldn’t keep pace with a combustion engine.
They were still screaming when the jumped the curb and blew recklessly through a 7-11 parking lot, before getting it under control and taking the ramp on to the interstate.
“Fuck me,” I cursed, trying to catch my breath. Just like the guys, the car didn’t look familiar either. I hoped it was just kids messing around, but seeing as how they had a getaway car staged, I knew it wouldn’t take me too many guesses to figure out who was behind it.
I made the slow jog back to my place. In the back of my mind, I knew that this was going to be a sleepless night. Minutes ago I was in a peaceful place, ready to drift off to dreamland with good thought’s in my head about a five-foot-seven blonde beauty. But now, I was so amped up, I’d be lucky if I could wind down enough by tomorrow night.
When I reached the wall, I kicked something in the darkness. Normally, I wouldn’t have thought twice, but it felt soft and pliable against my toe. It seemed out of place.
I scoured the dark earth in front of me by sweeping my foot back and forth until I found it again. When I kicked it the second time, the first thought that jumped out at me was: leather. I bent down to pick it up.
It was a wallet—one of their wallets to be specific. I shoved it in my back pocket and launched myself back over the wall. There was a light on the other side where I’d be better equipped to inspect its contents.
Jay Anderson was the name on the license. I didn’t recognize the name or the face. Inside were a two credit cards and a few dollars. I promptly plucked those out and handed them to the homeless gentleman laying on the sidewalk next to me. “Here ya go, buddy.” I felt bad for disturbing his sleep.
Closing the wallet, I tried to figure out the situation. The guy in the picture certainly didn’t look like someone who’d be involved with Ortiz, but who was I to judge? He was a clean cut guy, thirty-one years old according to his license, and he was an organ donor. It didn’t exactly line up with the “street thug” style.
I didn’t find any more clues on the rest of the trip back, though the one I already had didn’t make much sense anyway. That’s okay, I was going to have plenty of time to try to figure it out while I wasn’t sleeping for the next three and a half hours.
The front door was still ajar. I seethed at the thought that it was now just as cold inside my place as it was outside.
When I walked back in, I almost missed it. Sticking out of the door, just below the number, was a hunting knife the length of my forearm. It took two hard pulls to get it free. I turned it over in my hands. The blade glinted in the sparse light.
Ortiz or not, somebody was trying to send me a message.
Riley
I came to a decision the other night. I think it happened on the drive between his gym and my condo, but it had been percolating for longer than I was willing to admit. I was ready to give this thing with Troy a real chance. At first, I thought it was just a fling, but after the way we were together that night, it felt like there was a chance for a relationship.
The hardest part for me was admitting to myself that I couldn’t hang on to this job if I wanted to pursue things with him. If I would have told any of my friends about it, they would have said I was crazy. How could I even consider giving up such a great job—one I’d poured my heart into, no less—for a guy I barely knew?
Well, the answer to that question became crystal clear to me. It wasn’t all for him that I was willing to give this up. It was for my own sanity. I was twenty-two years old and I spent most of my days slaving away in an office building, and for what? The non-profit? Sure, I loved the idea of helping people, but there were plenty of other arenas where I could offer the same of myself.
If I really thought about it, I’d been looking for an excuse to leave for a long time. Maybe it was Troy who awakened something in me that helped me find the courage to finally do it. Whether it was didn’t really matter in the grand scheme of things. Even if I wanted to stay on, it wouldn’t be sustainable. Either I would breakdown under the stress of keeping the secret, or news of our relationship would get out and it would be a death sentence for my career.
I unfolded the sheet of paper on my desk and read it for the hundredth time:
Mrs. Cheryl Hemlock:
This letter is to formally notify you and other necessary delegates of my decision to resign from my position as a Consultant with Fitting In, Corp. Please consider this resignation effective as of two-weeks from today’s date, though I am open to altering the timeline if it would be beneficial to the organization.
I know this may come as a surprise, but I am looking forward to pursuing a different career path. Thank you for the opportunities…
Blah, blah, blah.
I closed it up again and smoothed the folds in the paper. The edges of it were sharp enough to slice bread with. I tucked it into the envelope and waited. The last step was actually handing it over. I understood that wouldn’t be very easy, either.
My computer screen lit up with an incoming video call. It was Kyle’s skype number.
What the hell? I thought. He’s only going to have so many more chances to harass me; I might as well take it.
“Can I help you?” I said, curtly.
“Good time at that banquet, wasn’t it?”
I was actually shocked that it had taken him this long to follow up on it. The banquet seemed so far in my rear-view mirror that I could hardly see it anymore.
“Kyle, that was like… weeks ago.”
“I know, Sweetie, but I was on vacation in the islands and I never had a chance to catch up with you about it.”
Had he been on vacation? Now that I thought about it, he hadn’t been by to bother me in a while. If I would have realized it, I would have enjoyed his absence more.
“Is there any point to this?” I asked, bluntly. “I’m gonna tell you not to call me demeaning names like ‘Sweetie’ and you’re not going to listen. Then, you’ll probably say something disgusting which will cause me to end the call. So, should we just cut to the chase?”
“You got pretty drunk at that party, didn’t you?”
“What’s your point?”
“For a minute there, it looked like you were gonna reconsider your offer. You know, I went home with your friend that night.”
“That’s a lie and you know it.”
“Oh, is it? Why don’t you ask her? To be honest, she was okay but it would have been a whole lot more fun had you joined us.”
He was a disgusting pig and I hardly entertained the idea that Casey had slept with him. She wouldn’t have in a million years.
“Are you done?”
“I’m just getting started.”
The way he angled his camera made him look like a bug. That’s funny, because it’s exactly what he was—a cockroach.
“How about this,” I said. “I’m done. You can keep talking but I’m going to end the call. Goodbye.”
“Why? Do you have a date with your little MMA boyfriend?”
What?
My mouse was pointed at the exit button with my finger hovering over the clicker. “What did you say?”
“You thought no one knew about that, didn’t you?”
I felt my stomach lurch and I was all but sure my lunch was going to be splattered all over the keyboard at any second.
“You’re a fucking creep. Leave me alone.”
I had the secret weapon in an envelope just out of view of the camera. That resignation letter meant I could say whatever I wanted now without fear of repercussion. If they
wanted to fire me for standing up to this jerk, I’d wear it like a badge of honor.
“I see you haven’t been doing anything to clean up that language while I was gone.”
“Do you think you can intimidate me?” I asked.
“Possibly,” he said. “But I know I can get you fired for breaking the rules.”
“Try me.”
“I could do that,” he said. “I’m not quite sure I’m ready to, though. What really concerns me is why you’re fucking some piece of trash criminal from the program. Getting you fired doesn’t really do anything for me, but finding out why is what matters.”
“You don’t know anything.”
“Oh, really?” Kyle leaned out of view for a moment. I could hear him fussing with something. “Then, what do you have to say about this?”
He held his cell phone up to the camera. It took a second for my brain to decipher what I was looking at.
Oh, my God.
It was a picture of me and Troy having sex on the floor at his gym.
“Where did you get that?!”
I immediately broke out in a cold sweat. My chest felt like it had an anchor sitting on top of it.
“Don’t worry about where I got it, just worry about the fact that I do have it. And there’s plenty more. I see that your favorite position is missionary. That’s mine too. I like to look a woman in the eyes while we do it.”
I got lightheaded and it was hard to focus. “I can’t… this is-”
“Blackmail,” he interrupted. “I think that’s the word you’re looking for.”
I grabbed at my desk just for something to hold on to.
“I don’t blame you for being upset,” he said. “If someone had evidence showing me having sex with a felon, I’d be all torn up about it, too.”
I closed out of the program and everything was silent. This couldn’t be happening. Almost immediately, I got a text message from him.
Meet me for dinner tonight at the Skyroom. We’ll talk about it.
