by Lauren Wood
“I know it doesn’t and I’m sure you have some interesting ways to torture me when you get your hands on me. If I have my way, then this will be the last time we ever lay eyes on one another.” I put my leg over the railing and looked down to see that Graham was waiting for me.
“This was supposed to be mine and you took it away from me. I won’t forget this.” He was sounding like a broken record, but at least this time he was left with something for his troubles. The one million dollars would hopefully take the sting out of losing $64,000,000 on top of that.
“I have to know how you got away from the cops. The only way out was in a pine box or body bag.” My curiosity had gotten the best of me.
“You just said a mouthful. We all went down in a hail of bullets like in the old west. I had gotten my hands on some medication to slow our heart. Most of us woke up when we were processed at the coroner’s office. Jessie wasn’t so lucky. One of the bullets was a dead shot between the eyes. You have his death on your conscience. He will be avenged one day. By the way, Gideon says hello.” He slumped onto the table, leaving me to ponder the last thing on his lips. I never wanted to hear that name again.
I repelled down the rope into Graham’s waiting arms.
I wasn’t expecting the gun in my face.
Chapter six
The facts were glaringly obvious. Graham was prepared to betray me and take the money for himself. The barrel was cold and impersonal. I knew there was the possibility one day a bullet with my name would find me.
“You should have seen this coming. It’s not a secret. I don’t play nice with others. Don’t worry, I will make this quick. There’s no point in procrastinating.” His finger was on the trigger, but it wasn’t my death getting me a little hot under the collar.
“I’m going to have your child.” He shook his head and began laughing at the audacity of trying to save my own skin.
“We haven’t even slept together. You do know Immaculate Conception is virtually impossible. I admit I wasn’t expecting you to say that, but it doesn’t change one single thing. I commend you for making me take a step back. You’re only putting off the inevitable.” His finger had wavered for a moment. He had conviction that came from his mind being dead set on a particular course of action.
“We met at Marbles after last call. You took me up to one of the rooms and had your way with me. Tell me there isn’t something familiar about me when we first met. Can you deny the chemistry between us even though we barely know each other?” He lowered his gun and then brought it up to his forehead trying to jog his memory.
He tossed the gun and it landed with a heavy bang on the bedside table. The phone was temporarily displaced with the receiver off the hook and hanging down to the floor. The dial tone was deafening and then his hands were on my shoulders until he had me prone on the bed.
“I thought something was off, but I just couldn’t put my finger on it. I shouldn’t believe you, but I do. I’ve never been faced with fatherhood. The very idea of somebody depending on me is laughable. I can barely take care of myself.” He was pulling up my shirt, exposing my breasts and burying his head between both sizable mountains
“You have gone from wanting to kill me to wanting to protect me with your life. What a tangled web we weave when we practice to deceive. It’s something I have always wanted to say but never had the opportunity.” I felt the heat of his breath on my face and the way his clumsy hands were trying to get my shirt over my head.
I was trapped with the fabric wrapped around my wrists. He was kissing my nipples and then extending his tongue with a quick flicking motion. The buds became rock solid under his oral attention to detail.
He soon had me naked with my feet practically touching my ears. I had no idea my body could bend like some kind of contortionist.
“I don’t know how we get past my attempted betrayal. We have to for the sake of the child. It’s going to need both of his parents. I know I’m getting a little ahead of myself. There’s no way to possibly know the sex this early.” He was nipping lightly at my nipples; nursing at them with the kind of suction a newborn baby would to milk his mother for sustenance.
“Graham, you have always been able to take my breath away. We both deserve to make this work for obvious reasons. We have the sort of income which makes it possible to give this child the life we never had.” I never made a promise I didn’t keep.
The pointed end of his tongue was drawing a roadmap to my lower extremities. He was making me arch my body every time he attempted to graze my already soaking mound with his finger. His teasing gesture was met with me slapping his face for good measure.
“I’m glad you told me before it was too late. It was nothing personal. I’ve never been able to share my toys with the other children. I was a hellion when I was younger. I never did have the kind of family dynamic to make me well rounded and a productive member of society.” He was dipping his tongue into my navel and sending a jolt of excitement right between my legs.
“I hold no hard feelings. I do want something hard, but it has nothing to do with feelings.” He was on his knees between my legs and was frantically taking off his shirt followed by his pants and underwear. The risk of getting caught by overstaying our welcome was foremost on my mind.
His anatomy was hard to recover from once I had a taste. It lingered waiting to be explored again. His shaft was barely touching my bald mound. He traced the lips with the head of his cock, paying particular attention to the hard and unyielding presence of my clit. He burrowed in with his tongue corkscrewing into me without mercy. I clawed at his scalp, tearing at his hair and coming back with strands clinging to my fingertips.
He was humming a happy tune, lifting me into the air and plastering my sex against his mouth. I was riding in the sweetest torture possible and his tongue was the product of my discomfort and pleasure.
My whole body was extra sensitive to his touch. It had to have something to do with an overactive hormone imbalance. My doctor had told me in confidence the possibility of side effects were extremely possible.
“You can’t possibly think this makes us… even.” I was on the fence whether or not I should snap his neck between my muscular thighs. It was touch and go for a moment until he opened up the floodgates.
He was making a good case for him to continue breathing despite his hand on the trigger about to kill me and the child. I probably would have done the same thing had the shoe been on the other foot.
“I know you think you know me better than anyone, but maybe you were…fuck it… I don’t know what I’m talking about”. I lost my train of thought when he began to flutter his tongue inside me. He was touching that particular spot.
He made me thrash my head from side to side with my hair flipping from one side of the pillow to the other. It was lucky nobody was in the way or they probably would’ve gotten hurt.
I had learned the hard way hair was the hardest substance and could literally cut the palm of a hand given enough incentive.
A few of my ex-partners had expressed their displeasure in some vivid e-mails. I was hard pressed not to think someone was going to come knocking on my door for vengeance.
“Yes… give me that tongue and don’t you dare stop until I am finished.” I was holding him to a higher standard making him perform at a level that was seemingly impossible.
His tongue was a very strong muscle in his body and he was using it to make me a believer. I no longer thought of him as a threat. The future was written in his eyes. He looked up with his tongue still firmly implanted inside me. He was working to get me there again and he wasn’t going to have to do much. He found the hidden switch for a multiple orgasm and circled it with his tongue while force feeding me three of his fingers.
I made a noise so loud that he had to clamp his hands over his ears. He came up with my taste still on his lips. We kissed with my knees pressed up against his chest. His knob was touching my glistening surface. I reached down to find he was already dri
pping with excitement. I rejoiced in how wet I already was. I grabbed him at the base and planted his flag with only the head, to begin with.
“I do remember this. It's the tactile memory and the feeling of your hole gripping me. I would’ve known sooner had we followed my advice about getting physical before the job. We could have avoided all of this miscommunication and this feeling of mistrust after I pulled a gun on you.” It really was nothing compared to the sound of Timothy’s voice and the last word coming out of his mouth. I tried not to think about it but it wasn’t easy when the name sent me into a tizzy.
“I would say I was memorable. It’s a good thing we got past any kind of animosity. Killing me would have made it impossible for you to realize how good a father you are going to be. We have a lot to be thankful for, not the least of which is this beautiful body of yours. Give me every inch of your hungry specimen and I will give you more than you can handle.” I lifted my body to impale him inside the slippery walls of my pussy. I inhaled every single inch and made him gasp from how my body was taking what it wanted from him.
“I really didn’t know what I was getting myself into. I don’t think any man can say with a straight face that they have ever been in your league. I thought we were perfectly matched, but I’m starting to realize I might have been wrong. I will do what I can to keep up, but I can’t promise anything.” He was sounding repetitive and this wasn’t the first time I had heard a man claim to be my inferior in the bedroom.
He had my ankles in his hands and he was thrusting with his body shining with his perspiration dripping down his chest. He was grunting every time he gave me it all down to where the balls were slapping heavily against me.
“Most men never have an idea until it’s too late. It’s the reason why I am selective about my partners. I need to fully vet them to see if they are up to the challenge. It usually requires a full physical. I don’t want to scare you, but others have died in your position with a smile on their face.” I was poking fun and he was starting to understand my dark sense of humor.
“I can see how a man’s heart can give out after being with you one time too many. I will take my chances.” He was barreling ahead with his body on top of me playing havoc with my insides.
“I tried to warn you it wasn’t a good idea to get personal. We are both to blame. Our bodies were never going to settle for a one-time exploration of our flesh. We had to give in and it wasn’t like we had much of a choice.” I was pulling at his sparse chest hairs. It made him more anxious and his momentum carried him forward at a speed that made his anatomy become a blur of motion to the naked eye.
“I’ve never been much for listening. I always do what I want regardless of the consequences.” They would no doubt be doing a search floor by floor with a contingent of police officers knocking on the doors.
Any door that wasn’t answered would be forcibly opened using the manager’s master key.
“I hate to speed this all along, but our window of opportunity is closing fast.” He answered with quick stabs of his manhood. He was giving me only the head for a few moments and then the long and unyielding shaft.
“You shouldn’t rush greatness. This would be so much better if we were anonymous lovers. I want you to take my boiling seed. We made magic one night and I did everything I could to make you smile. I have to say you are responsive. My God…I know it might sound flippant, but we are responsible for another human being.” He was dangerously close to ruining the mood. He got back on track by deeply penetrating my inner recesses.
I came with a flourish of flying limbs. It was quickly followed by his grunt of pleasure as he emptied his balls inside me.
We lay there for few moments basking in the glow. We had to get up and get out of there in a hurry. We pulled the fire alarm and mingled with the guests until we were safely driving away with the name of Gideon following like a black cloud over my head. One day I would tell him about her, but hopefully, she wouldn’t come calling until I could come up with the right words.
He reached over and touched my belly. We shared a special moment and I knew he felt it too. I wasn’t going to let him go unless somebody came and pried my fingers off of his body. I was never going to walk out the door not when I had something to fight for.
THE END
HOT PACKAGE
Chapter One
“I have an unhealthy attachment to my freedom to ever consider going to work for an accomplished art dealer. I agreed to sit down with you because I respect everything you have accomplished. I just don’t know if it’s the right fit for me to have my own show.” I was comfortable doing my own thing and selling my pieces on the Internet.
“Darby, I contacted you because you have become a growing concern in the art community. People have been raving about your pieces and how they seem to come to life before their very eyes. I don’t mind telling you, I was a little jealous, but felt we can do some great work together.” Granger was a man who knew how to make people famous with word of mouth spreading amongst those who were of discerning tastes.
“I’m not very comfortable around people. I can’t stand crowds. They make me feel the room is closing in on me. I’ve always been a closet claustrophobic. I would prefer you keep this little confession between us.” I didn’t like the limelight and my work was appreciated by those who were drawn to the allure of my mysterious persona.
“I understand, but this is your chance to broaden your horizons. I have a client who is interested in procuring a few interesting pieces on the subject of death. I will receive a small retainer and the rest of what he is offering is yours. We can call this a test to find out if our working relationship can stand up to scrutiny. I’m not going to stunt your creativity by offering some words of wisdom.” He was a bit of a beatnik with small glasses like John Lennon would wear. His colorful vest made him appear to be bigger than life, but this was his trademark to differentiate himself from other art gallery owners.
“I might be willing to give this one chance. I make enough to live on and I don’t need anything more. You could call me a minimalist. I don’t mind admitting to a curiosity about how the other half lives.” His black shirt was hanging loosely over his jeans. We were standing and looking at the exhibit of some of his other artists.
“I think you’ll agree his offer is hard to ignore. To be perfectly honest, I don’t have any other artists who can grab his attention with something shocking and quite unexpected. He wants you and has given me enough incentive to track you down. I want you to take this slip of paper and look at it at your earliest convenience. I don’t mind if you sleep on it for a bit.” I felt in awe of some of the names under the umbrella of his gallery.
“It’s never been about the money. I like the idea of having something mainstream, but I don’t want to take away from the freedom to explore my creativity wherever it might take me. I do feel it’s time for a change and maybe your phone call was exactly what I needed to shake things up.” I had worked at home in my own private studio with a view of a pristine lake to give me inspiration. It was a temporary residence.
Heartbreak had led me down a dark and lonely road. It was the most painful time of my life, but it revealed the darkness on the canvas. I had a cult following within weeks of my first creation. I was feeding my scarred soul by splashing my emotions on the canvas.
“This is your chance to become a break out hit. I’ll be happy to take your hand and guide you every step of the way. You won’t be the first artist to come into the light kicking and screaming. I do need to give you fair warning that fame comes with its own pitfalls.” Granger was a man with a lot of pull to get things done in a timely manner.
He wasn’t very muscular, but the rumors were swirling about his body having not an ounce of fat on it. His wild mane of white hair was courtesy of a medical condition. He actually colored his goatee to match what was on top of his head.
“I feel somewhat intimidated in your presence. I’m sure you get that all the time from other artists
clinging to the possibility of becoming the next big thing. I never had any delusions when it came to making the kind of mark on the world that Michelangelo did.” The stench of his cologne was sickening and made me wonder how any woman could be with him. He was immune to the odor emanating from his body. I was afraid he bathed in the stuff.
“Darby, you have your own style unlike anybody else. Your paintings seem to jump out at you when you look at them closely. I found one remarkably able to convey this stillness and fear in my heart. The woman screaming had me living vicariously through her eyes.” I never labeled my work and I wanted it to speak for itself without anything to detract from it.
“I’ve been living on my own since I was 16-years-old. My parents died in an avalanche. I had the courts make me an adult by getting a job to support myself. I learned to live with what I need and not what I want. Most people who make loads of money feel that there’s never enough.” I had no interest in getting into the world of contemporary art. I lived by my own rules and I didn’t want to answer to anybody.
“Artists are known to suffer for their art in one form or another. I’ve learned to navigate their eccentricities. The only thing I ask is you give it some thought. It is after all the time of giving. The holiday season is fast approaching with Christmas no more than a few weeks away. I want to smack them in the face with something they will never see coming.” I took a brief moment to pause for the cause. I opened the small piece of paper to witness more zeroes that I had ever seen in my life.
“What exactly does this person expect from me for this kind of money? I will never debase myself and corrupt my ideals for the sake of the almighty dollar.” I had to put my foot down and be steadfast in my approach when it came to my work.
“He wants something unique and he has requested your personal stamp of approval. He wants a piece to speak to him in a language that only he understands. It doesn’t matter if it’s on canvas or some kind of sculpture. I’m going to leave that to your imagination.” He was lanky and had the vibe of some made up idea of what an art gallery dealer should look like. I could see through him like transparent glass.
