Chasing Sergei: Dark Romance

by Aubrey Collins

  Daniel Cormier, the owner of Cormier Real Estate? He was supposedly some kind of super genius. Many of the world’s most prestigious scientific laboratories wanted to clone him. Numerous approaches had been made. Hundreds of thousands of dollars had been offered. And then millions. All the deals were rejected. Not only had Cormier rejected the deals but he had also sent his private security groups to attack the labs of the companies that continued to pursue him.

  The company, probably Chinese, was going to pay Dante $100,000 up front. And $350,000 upon completion. This was bigger and more dangerous, a lot more dangerous, than any mission he had ever taken on. This company wanted the Cormier’s genes.

  Over the last several years, Dante had made several hundred deliveries up and down the West coast and throughout the Southwest. He loved those open roads, those highways, freeways, mountains, abandoned towns, and lost cities. He’d done plenty of pickups and drop offs. Most of the time, like the UPS man, he had no idea what he was carrying.

  He had never kidnapped anybody. He suspected that it wouldn’t be easy.

  Something about this mission just didn't seem right to him.

  Gus was his main man—the one who usually gave him the assignments. He had been trying to get in touch with him for the last three days. He had left messages and texts. No answer. Nothing. That wasn't so strange, thus if he was knee-deep in an important mission, he wouldn't take the time to return phone calls or texts.

  Dante was just going to have to be patient. That wasn’t something that came easily to him. And it would be made even harder by those pangs of conscience that he felt gnawing at him. He had never let his conscience get to him before. He had shot a couple of men on the road. They most likely had lived. He had never gone back to check.

  He feared that this mission would bring him into a very strange underworld. He wondered if he would end up trapped there alongside the prized man that he was supposed to kidnap.

  What if he backed out, left a message with Gus, asked for a new mission? No! That wouldn’t be possible, not if he had any hopes of rising in the club and surpassing his father. He would have to keep pushing. That's what drove him. At one time, his father had been thought of as one of the future leaders. He was brave. Bold. Brash.

  The women, the blondes, the brunettes, and everything in between, hung off his shoulders, their eyes twittered and flickered with desire, their sweet young pussies dripped throbbed. He had them all on their knees, worshiping his majestic rod. He rode his Harley hardly hard and fast. The energy in his green eyes set you on fire or cut you in two. Take your pick.

  While coming back from a big LA meeting, after having been drinking for about 12 hours, his father lost control of his hog. He could've been killed, mangled. He was lucky to walk away with just two broken legs and without any serious internal damage. No head trauma. He was really fucking lucky!

  Or at least, that's what they had thought at the time. Pills pills, pills. So many fucking pills! They gave him everything he wanted in the hospital. The nurses had heard his name whispered up and down the coast. They wanted to peek under the bed sheets, rub his third leg, help him recuperate, get his mojo back. They gave him everything he wanted, practically stuffing his face with one painkiller or another, competing with each other to see who could get their hands on the most.

  Things didn’t seem so bad until his father got out of the hospital and the bills started showing up. He didn’t have any money. No money for food. No money for booze. No money to fix his bike. No money for physical therapy. And most importantly, no money for pills.

  He’d resorted to breaking into cars and slamming H, which was a lot cheaper than the pills and sent him off into a similar, painless dream world. He seemed to be constantly chasing the rush that riding and being with his brothers used to give him. He quickly began to waste away. Skin sagged on his bones, making the tattoos that covered his flesh look ghoulish and absurd. His eyes were hollowed out, reflecting the emptiness, the burnt out carcass of his soul. Nothing remained. He was a zombie. A junkie.

  Seeing his father waste away like that, might have caused some young men to rage, at the gang that was supposed to protect him. He had been drinking and traveling with them when he suffered the injuries, which had ended up turning him onto pills and eventually heroin. They were his brothers. His family.

  But Dante had seen the efforts that his father’s brothers had made. They had tried to save him. Giving money to help him get back on his feet. Money so he could continue his physical therapy. Money so that he could get his battered bike repaired. No matter how much they gave he spent it on junk—the kind you pump into your veins.

  Dante wanted to redeem his father. Make him proud. And also surpass him. Things were complicated between them. Competition, envy, jealousy, resentment, misunderstanding. But there was also great admiration and love. His father was still alive. Just barely. A couple of the brothers had set him up in a pretty decent trailer. It wasn't the Four Seasons. But it was better than nothing. And he wasn’t alone. He still had a couple women, hanging on. They hadn’t all left when he could no longer get around without his wheelchair. A few of the good ones had stuck around. Maybe they had nowhere to go. Maybe there was nowhere else they wanted to be. Whatever the case, Dante was grateful for their presence in his father's life. It would only be a few more years, a few more years of pain and suffering, before the reaper finally reached up and pulled him into the earth.

  Chapter 5

  He had the next 72 hours to himself. Then he would have to be ready. Casey hadn’t been nearly as clear about the details of the mission as he would have liked. Another red flag. Another thing that made him want to head back out West. Leave this job behind.

  He raised his hand and ordered another round of beer and shots. He knew that there was only so long that he could go on like that. But this was all he could do ease the pangs of conscious that were troubling him. His work usually didn’t involve any serious moral dilemmas.

  He made pick up and drop offs. Get paid. Do the next job. That's how he liked to keep things. Simple, efficient, and professional.

  The bar door opened. Daylight rushed in. Two college girls entered and went straight to an empty table. They sat down opposite each other and stretch their arms across the table, clasping each other's hands.

  Dante shook his head.

  He thought of that kinky girl that he had spent time with the previous day. He pulled his personal phone out of his pants. He wasn’t surprised or bothered by the fact that she hadn’t sent him a message yet. He was almost certain that she had her mind on him, on the way he had made her scream and cream. He was certain that she would be very happy to hear from him.

  He spent a few minutes thinking of what to text her.

  “Really had fun yesterday…Feel like having a drink?”

  It wasn't the smoothest text. The desire for sex, only thinly veiled, if at all. But he wasn't much into lying or playing games. He knew that women were often more than happy to hear from him. They almost always wanted a second taste a second deep dicking. It was just a question of not being too much of an asshole.

  He pressed send and smiled.

  He threw back another shot, washed it down with some more of the Amber brew. His adrenaline was really starting to pump.

  There was a boldness, an unabashed sluttiness about these New York women. They knew what they wanted and they weren't afraid to ask for it. That was perfect for a guy like him. He had no problem with women being forward, getting on top, slapping him across the face as they bounced up and down on his cock. He had no problem with that at all.

  Moments later his personal phone beeped. Two text messages. He smiled.

  It was her. I just got out of an interview. Really excited! I would love a drinkI What part of the city are you in?

  Apparently, her work life was going through a period of transition as well.

  Union Square, he texted back. A dive bar called “Fangs.”

  She responded. Of co
urse you’re in a dive. LOL.

  He didn’t laugh out loud but instead chuckled. He felt comfortable in these run down spots. Felt like he could be himself.

  She was in Midtown. It would take her about another twenty-five minutes to get there. He smiled and licked his lips. Sometimes women were just too damn easy, he said to himself, reaching down and squeezing his crotch. He could practically hear Taylor’s pussy dripping over the phone. They couldn't resist him. One whiff of his masculine scent and they dropped to their knees mouth and eyes wide open. He was perfectly willing to give them everything they desired from him.

  He squeezed his cock again, then closed his eyes and moaned. He was hard. Ready to give it to her. Hard, slow, deep, and fast. He knocked back another shot and washed it down with the amber brew. Then he slid off the stool and walked towards the door.

  He pushed through the door and shielded his eyes from the light. He hadn’t realized how long he had been inside the dimly lit dive. He pulled a pack of American Spirits out of his jeans. This would be the year when he finally quit. But that would definitely have to wait for a little while longer. He sensed that over the next few days, he would probably be smoking more than usual, doing all he could to calm his nerves. He felt an incredible amount of tension and anxiety coursing through his veins.

  He looked at his phone. Taylor would be arriving any minute. She would be just the distraction he needed. And when they were done, he definitely wouldn't kick her out of the hotel room. He'd let her stay for a bit. Not too long. But longer than usual. He could really use the company. Being lost in his own thoughts was starting to gnaw at him. Introspection really wasn’t his thing.

  This moral quandary—would he go through with the mission or not—was forcing him to ask himself questions that he usually tried to avoid.

  Where was he going? What was he doing?

  He took a few last drags on the cigarette, frowned and stubbed it out under his boots. His head was swimming. He felt dizzy. Thank God this mission was almost over. It would be wrapped up within the next 96 hours. Then he could head back out to the left coast. Get back to his regular life. Visit his father! Yes, he would definitely do that. Check in on the old man. Maybe even tell him about this weird, science fiction shit that they'd signed him up for.

  “Hey, is all the action out here?”

  An electric charged passed through Dante’s body. He turned and grinned. Taylor smoothed a lock of brown hair behind an ear and fluttered her lashes. He leaned down and kissed her on the lips, slowly, nibbling on the bottom one, then pulling back, staring right at her, swirling his tongue around his lips.

  “There’s plenty of action inside. But how about we get out of here?” He said confidently, sure that they would be walking into his hotel room and tearing at each other’s clothes very shortly.

  She raised an eyebrow skeptically. “Get out of here?”

  The smile slid from his face. Maybe he had overplayed his hand. “I mean…you know—”

  “Why don’t we go inside, get some drinks, food, and talk.”

  Dante blinked several times. He was slowly beginning to sober up. She really wanted to go back inside instead of heading to his hotel room? Maybe he should have told her that despite his rugged appearance, he was staying in a very nice hotel.

  “I like talking,” he finally replied. “Talking is good.”

  “Great!” She grabbed his face and pulled him down towards her. They kissed gently on the lips. She quickly pulled away.

  Dante held the door open. She smiled and lowered her head. “A gentleman? I like that.”

  He licked his lips. “I aim to please.”

  They sat down at an empty table in the corner. Dante was still shaking the cobwebs out of his brain. He brushed a tangle of blonde hair out of his face, blinked a few times. He tried to think of something clever and witty. But nothing came to mind.

  “Do you normally meet people at dingy Lower East side bars?” She asked raising her eyebrows.

  “Only important people,” he replied. “Do you usually have that much fun with guys within hours of meeting them?’

  Taylor looked away and sighed. “Only when I'm feeling really anxious or nervous about something. Helps take my mind off it, I guess. Do you know what I mean?”

  Dante nodded up and down slowly. He knew exactly what she meant.

  It wasn’t long before they left the bar and headed back to Dante’s hotel room, scratching and clawing in the back of the Uber.

  Chapter 6

  Back inside the $300-a-night hotel room. Dante picked Taylor up. She wrapped an arm around his neck pressed her lips to his. He laid her down gently on the bed and spread her legs wide. He kissed the insides of her thighs, slowly, sexily, seductively, working his way to the tight, wet, dripping pussy. He couldn't wait to explore it again, to lick, suck, and nibble it.

  He moved his tongue up and down the labia. Then he poked it in and out. He slipped one finger in just below his time, pushed back and forth and back and forth. She moaned and threw her head back. Her breathing picked up. Sweat began to break out on her skin. His mouth was clamped down on her bulbous clit head. He sucked on it madly. He was so damn hot and horny. He looked down at his cock. It was bulging, beautiful, veins popping out of it. He squeezed it. It felt so full and hard in his hand. He slowly pushed it inside of her. So fucking tight!

  With both his hands, he grabbed her ass and pushed deeper and deeper.

  “Oh my God!” She said. “That feels amazing! Her nails scratched down his chest. She bit her bottom lip and tossed her head from side to side as if momentarily possessed. He smiled, lifted her head up and pushed his tongue into her mouth. They kissed passionately, sloppily, saliva spilling from their mouths. What a bunch of wild animals they were! Completely uninhibited!

  “Your cock is so big!” She cried. “It’s HUGE!”

  Dante had heard it before. But it never got old. He drove his hips into her harder and harder. She wrapped her legs around his torso. She was so damn wet, cream pie all over his cock, leaking out onto the bed sheets.

  He loved it. Couldn't get enough of it. He reached down and picked her up in his arms. She wrapped her arms and legs around him tightly.

  “Where are we going?”

  He didn't answer. Just kissed her on the neck and carried her over to the wall. He pressed her up against it, his strong hands holding up firmly by her two ass cheeks, pumping his cock into her deeper and deeper, deeper and deeper.

  His cock tingled. He could feel the cum rising. He was going to come at any moments. He pulled out and pushed her down on her knees.

  She opened her mouth and looked up at him, hungrily, expectedly, submissively. He grunted and groaned, eyes closed, stroking his cock back and forth, the purple mushroom head about to explode. She began playing with his balls and then she began tickling his asshole.

  He leaned his head back and moaned. “Fuck. Don't stop. That feels so fucking good.”

  She swirled her fingers around his hole and smiled mischievously. She moved in and out of the tight hole, first with one finger than with two, moving closer and closer to his prostate. That's all it would take. He would explode. And then she finally got there…

  Cum began to shoot from his dick like a geyser, splashing on her face and chest.

  But apparently, that wasn't enough for her! She kept moving her fingers in and out of his ass, then she wrapped the other one around his cock and jammed it into her mouth, sucking the last few drops of cum from the slits. She licked up and down the shaft, wiped the cum from her face and chest and put it into her mouth.

  “How does it taste?”

  She nodded up and down, smiling. “It tastes really good, Daddy.” He reached down and kissed her. Then he gave her a light smack across one cheek, then the other cheek. She smiled. He slapped her again on both cheeks, this time a little bit harder.

  Her face was beginning to turn red. He reached down and picked her, kissed her on the mouth.

  “You l
ike it when Daddy slaps you?”

  “Yes, it feels good.”

  They kiss on the mouth. He reached down to pick her up again and carry her to the bed.

  BANG BANG. A HARD FIST SLAMMED INTO THE DOOR.

  “OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR!

  She wrapped her arms around him, fear etched on her features. Dante squeezed her tightly. Who the hell could it be? Who would have the balls to bang on the door of a room that he was staying in and order him to do any goddamn thing?

  He glared at Taylor, brow furrowed. “You didn’t tell anyone that you were coming here, did you?”

  He sensed a great deal of fear in her eyes. He regretted his tone. But this was no time to fuck around. She shook her head from side to side.

  BANG BANG. A HARD FIST SLAMMED INTO THE DOOR AGAIN.

  “OPEN THE FUCKING DOOR, DANTE!

  What the fuck? They knew his name. He hurried across the room and pulled back the curtain. He looked down. Fuck! He was on the 28th floor. He was about to close the curtain when he saw something that he must have initially missed.

  A drone! It was floating right outside his window. He stared at it, mouth and eyes open with shock.

  “What is that?” Taylor said coming up behind him and wrapping her arms around his chest. She rested her cheek on his back. He frowned and rubbed his temples. He didn’t know what direction to turn. He didn’t know who to trust. He shouldn’t have her here. Whatever was on the other side of that door had nothing to do with her.

  “WE KNOW THAT YOU HAVE A LADY FRIEND IN THERE! DON’T WORRY! SHE WORKS FOR US!”

  Dante spun around and grabbed Taylor by both her arms, shaking her and staring dead into her eyes.

  “You fucking bitch,” he snarled. “You fucking lied to me.”

  He brought his hand back and slapped her hard against the cheek. She fell down. He stood over her as she wiped the tears from her eyes it must have been all the tension that had been building up in.

  “Please don’t hurt me,” she said. “I don’t know who that is. I DON’T!”