Take Me

by Anna Zaires, Pepper Winters, Skye Warren, Lynda Chance, Pam Godwin, Amber Lin

  It just looked so good, and I hadn’t really fucked a girl since Lia.

  I closed my eyes a moment and mentally rolled my eyes at myself for thinking about a girl from the past while I was about to fuck another one. I forced thoughts of Lia away and focused on the ass in front of me.

  One hand dropped down over her thigh and grabbed the lube. I dispensed a good amount on two of my fingers as my other hand gripped her butt and parted her cheeks. Her little puckered hole winked back at me as I slid a lubricated fingertip over it.

  Bridgett let out a sharp breath, and I paused for a moment before I started inserting my finger in her ass slowly, just to the first knuckle as I worked that much in her. It was obvious she had taken cock here before, and my finger entered her pretty easily, but I still wanted to go slow.

  I liked going slow.

  Once my finger was inside, I pulled it back, joined it with another, and worked that one in, too. Her body didn’t resist. Whether or not she enjoyed it, she at least knew what to do.

  I covered my condom-enclosed dick with more lube and positioned myself behind her. With cock in hand, I moved the tip to her hole and slowly inserted it.

  “Fuck, yeah,” I moaned.

  Bridgett gasped and her arms shook just a little.

  “Relax, baby,” I said softly. My hand caressed her butt cheek and then moved up her back. “Just stay up on your knees. You don’t have to hold yourself up with your arms. Lie down and spread your legs a bit more.”

  She nodded once, then moved her arms out to the side and turned her head so her cheek was against the mattress. Her eyes found mine, and they were still apprehensive.

  “That’s it, baby.”

  Slowly I entered her again, going just slightly deeper before backing out. Her ass was tight and warm, and my cock was throbbing to get all the way inside of it, but the slow burn was so worth the reward at the end. I’d keep my slow pace.

  A little further, back out again, a little more.

  My hands gripped both cheeks, spreading them to make way for my cock and squeezing them gently at the same time. The sight was beautiful as her body gave way to me, and my dick slipped further inside her bowels.

  Half way.

  “You feel so good,” I said, “so tight on my cock.”

  I closed my eyes and pushed a little farther, back again, forward. I moved slowly in and out of her until I finally, finally, buried myself up to my balls in her ass.

  I practically collapsed over the top of her for a moment while I got used to the felling of being in her. The muscles in her ass tensed, squeezing my cock and making me sigh out loud. Warm breath traveled over her back, and Bridgett shivered.

  “You okay?” I asked.

  “I’m okay,” she replied. Her voice was breathless but her eyes less worried. The tension in her shoulders diminished as I kissed one of them before rising back up onto my knees.

  With one arm wrapped around her waist and the other reaching up to palm one of her tits, I started moving. Slow, deep, gentle. My eyes closed as I placed my forehead on her back and just felt.

  If I believed in a god, it would be the god of women’s asses.

  My hand moved to her belly, running my fingers over her skin. I could feel a couple of the ridiculous sequins that had been glued to her skin come off as my hand brushed over them. I traveled lower, felt the smooth skin between her legs, found her opening, and slid my finger inside.

  Bridgett cried out, and her fingers gripped the sheet. They coiled around the fabric tight enough to make me pause briefly, assessing her and ultimately deciding her cries were of pleasure. My fingers moved inside of her, and my thumb brushed over her clit.

  “Evan!”

  With one hand on her breast and the fingers of the other sliding in and out of her, she began to push back against my cock.

  “That’s it, baby,” I whispered. “Feel that.”

  Bridgett moaned into the mattress, and I decided the sound was a pretty good one. My thumb rubbed her clit in circles, then pressed as I thrust deeper, then rolled again in time with my hips. My fingers kept up with the same rhythm, and though the angle reaching around her was a little difficult, it was worth it to feel her pussy clenching around my fingers as my cock filled her ass.

  My hand moved from her tit to her hip, and I used it as leverage to set a little faster pace. The grip her body had on my dick was fantastic, and every time I pulled back it felt like she was dragging me right back in.

  Warm, tight hole and big, round ass cheeks bouncing around as I thrust into her…

  Perfection.

  “Do you know how easy it would be to fuck you in the ass from this position?”

  My own echoed words floated around in my head, causing me to pause for a moment before refocusing my attention on the woman in front of me. She was rocking back and forth on her knees, trying to keep up with my movements. I leaned over her back and placed my mouth against her shoulder blade.

  “Feels so good,” I mumbled against her skin. “My cock in your ass…love how that feels.”

  She shuddered, and her hand reached back as if she was trying to touch me – touch us – but she couldn’t quite reach. My hand moved over hers, laced our fingers together, and I started thrusting faster. My thumb and fingers kept pace, and when I pushed down against her I could feel her walls clenching around my fingers, my cock – everything.

  I pressed against her with the pad of my thumb, and she cried out incoherently. Her legs trembled, and I reached around her waist to keep her from falling to the sheets. I stroked her with my fingers a couple more times as she panted beneath me, then raised myself up, grabbed her hips, and started to move again.

  Not faster, but deeper and with more purpose. I didn’t hold back but felt her body give way to mine, hugging my cock and giving me everything that was her.

  I arched my back, thrust into her one final time, and let myself go. My cock shuddered and released into the condom as I held my hips tight up against her ass. My fingers gripped her backside as I pulled her against me just a bit more and then released her.

  My hand went to the base of my shaft, gripped the edge of the condom, and then pulled back slowly. Bridgett gasped as my cock left her and dropped to her stomach as I backed away from her and got off the bed. I tossed the condom into the trash in the bathroom and then came back.

  She was still on her stomach, and her eyes were closed. I climbed back into bed and wrapped my arms around her, holding her against my chest.

  “You did good,” I told her, though I wasn’t sure why I felt the need to say it.

  “It felt good,” she whispered. “No one ever…used their fingers like that. I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard in my life.”

  I snickered quietly through my nose and was about to ask her what she thought of the other times I had made her come when I suddenly stopped before the words started.

  I’d never given her an orgasm before.

  Blowjobs and coming on her face had been the norms with her – I hadn’t even given it a second thought prior to ramming her ass.

  Should I have?

  With my shoulders tensed, my mind wandered to other hookers I’d had in the past – all single night hookups, and as I looked back on it, I hadn’t tried to bring them to orgasm, either. I had paid for the sex, and in my mind that meant they weren’t entitled to orgasm as well. Of course, it had always been a one-time thing before, and Bridgett was over here all the time.

  It just didn’t occur to me.

  I wasn’t even sure why it bothered me, but I couldn’t get it out of my head. She was right about not fucking her before, of course, but she hadn’t mentioned the orgasms, and I hadn’t thought about it. Now I couldn’t stop thinking about it, and I didn’t understand that, either.

  So I rolled her onto her back and fingered her until she was screaming my name.

  And then I did it again.

  I took her in the ass once more, going slowly and making sure she was moaning in
pleasure repeatedly before I took my own. Then later I had her suck me off in the shower, then took her back to bed and brought her to orgasm with my tongue. By the time we actually slept, we were both exhausted.

  As soon as we woke up, I made breakfast and we started all over again.

  After nearly two days of spending every minute either fucking or sleeping, I had to admit I was ready to go to work.

  My target awaited his destiny.

  All right, he wasn’t waiting for it, but I was ready. I had to be in Atlanta in the morning to start my new job as his security guard, and I planned on taking the earliest opportunity to end him and come back to my boss with the news.

  I was packing light so I could get in and out quickly – just a backpack with two changes of clothes. I could have them laundered at the hotel. My plan was to be there only a day or two before I took him out, but I also had to plan for the worst. It was possible I was going to have to earn his trust before he let me that close.

  I was hoping to earn his lust a little quicker.

  Bridgett watched me pack.

  “Where are you going?” she asked.

  “Don’t ask.” I tossed a small toiletry bag into the front pocket of my backpack and zipped it up. A paperback novel I had been meaning to read went in on top of my clothes to occupy my head during the plane ride to the Atlanta airport.

  “Why not?”

  “Don’t ask that, either.”

  “You suck as a conversationalist,” she said with a laugh.

  “It’s a good thing you spend a lot of time with my cock in your mouth, then,” I quipped.

  Silence.

  The lack of question-barrage was so nice, I didn’t actually notice it right away. I threw a couple more things in the bag, zipped it up, hauled it up over my shoulder, and then started towards the bedroom door.

  Bridgett followed slowly.

  Odin sneezed, glared at me, and then ran behind one of the chairs in the living room. He knew when I was going on a longer-than-usual trip. I wasn’t sure how, but he always knew. I coaxed him out from behind the chair, leashed him, and then looked back at Bridgett.

  She wasn’t actually crying, but her eyes were downcast and her shoulders slumped.

  It hit me then why giving a whore an orgasm wasn’t necessarily a great idea, especially not this one. She was having a hard enough time remembering what our relationship was, and I had just provided her with quite the holiday weekend.

  “What?” I asked. I was being rather gruff, but I also had this feeling she was getting in far too deep for anyone’s benefit.

  If I had to really admit it – which I didn’t, so I wouldn’t – I probably liked her. I wasn’t in love with her or anything ridiculous like that, and I wasn’t about to take her on as my girlfriend instead of my whore, but there was something about her I found intriguing besides the warmth of her mouth on my cock.

  She gave me something I needed in the form of comfort and sleep.

  I didn’t like the idea of needing her for anything. I didn’t want to have to rely on anyone for anything. It just wasn’t a good idea in this business to spread yourself too thin in the loyalty department. I had already been tested when I had to investigate Jonathan for an alibi, and he was as close to being a friend as anyone I knew.

  The fact was, I had only one person who held my loyalty, and that was because he paid me for it.

  Handsomely.

  I walked over and placed my fingers around her upper arms. Her muscles tensed, and I could tell she wanted to back away from me, but she didn’t.

  “What’s the problem?” I snapped.

  Odin crouched down behind the edge of the couch and whined slightly. Bridgett glanced at him out of the corner of her eye.

  “Nothing,” she replied softly. “It’s all good.”

  My hands slid up to her shoulders, and I crouched slightly to get a look into her eyes.

  “You need to get something through your head, Bridgett,” I said as I gripped her shoulders just a bit more. “I’ve said this before, and you don’t have any clever ways of word-smithing it now. This is fucking – nothing more, nothing less. My cock goes in various places around your body for cash. You’re a whore, and I’m a regular john. There is nothing special here.”

  She didn’t look up, and her muscles remained tense. It occurred to me that she might have thought I was going to hit her. I wouldn’t have – it wasn’t my style. If I was going to kill her that would be a whole other story, but I didn’t usually hit people I was going to kill. Not unless I really needed to do so.

  “You got that?” I asked once more.

  “I got it,” she answered quietly.

  “You need me to cut you off? Find someone else?”

  She looked up at me, and her eyes glistened. Her throat bobbed as she swallowed twice before she shook her head. She looked away from me and down to the floor.

  “Truth hurts, huh?” I said bluntly, and she flinched as a tear finally escaped from her dampened lashes.

  Maybe it was cruel, but it had to be done. The last thing I needed was a hooker who thought she was more to me than she was, and the last thing she needed was for someone in a rival boss’ business getting the idea she was important to me.

  There was just no way I could give her what she wanted.

  Chapter Seven

  Easy Murder

  Atlanta was always one of my favorite towns. It was decently warm, didn’t have the constant wind of Chicago, and the people were as entertaining as they could possibly be. Everyone always seemed just thrilled to death to be where they were, even if where they were was begging on a street corner or drunk in an alley. Even the drunks on the street entertained me.

  “You see that guy?”

  “What guy?” I asked the fifty-something black dude who was drinking a foul smelling liquid out of a paper bag. He’d been doing so since I sat down by the steps of the Marquis One Tower near one of the funky statues that may or may not be lions.

  “The one over there!” He reached his arm out to its full extent, added a pointing finger, and shook it around in the air like a flopping fish on the rocks.

  I laughed.

  “There are twenty guys over there!”

  “C’mon!” he insisted, and I had to get up to follow him.

  As we rounded the corner, we faced the valet parking area of the Marriott Marquis. It was a beautiful area with a giant fountain underneath part of the hotel. The echo of the water as it moved over the cement structure was more deafening than the noise from the cars waiting to be valeted.

  “That guy right there!” the drunk said as he waved his arms around a bit more. He reminded me of one of the characters from Sponge Bob, but I couldn’t remember which one. “It’s that guy! That one guy – from the movies!”

  My ears perked up a bit. I was supposed to meet Jim in an hour at the Hyatt, not the Marriott, which was right across the street. I wondered if something was wrong, though I knew the two hotels were attached by a skywalk. Scanning the motor area, I didn’t see any sign of either of them, so I looked back at my inebriated friend.

  “It’s Mel Gibson!” the drunk suddenly yelled out, and my shoulders dropped in relaxation.

  I looked over where he was pointing, and though the guy did vaguely resemble Gibson, it definitely wasn’t him. The drunken dude continued to squeal about Braveheart, but the show had lost its appeal. I gave up on the entertainment and hiked up the numerous back steps of the Hyatt, then followed the escalator to the lobby and bar area. There was a football game on, so I figured it was as good a place as any to be found when Jim showed up.

  The bartender at the Hyatt was a good one, and I do like a good bartender even though I didn’t drink often. He was a dark-skinned, bald guy who didn’t weigh more than about a hundred and twelve pounds. He had a Caribbean accent of some sort, but I couldn’t quite discern from where. He poured me two fingers of some decent scotch and let me just sit there and watch the game at one of the tall, round tab
les. I paid just enough attention to figure out who was playing, who was probably going to win, and to take note of at least one egregious foul I could bitch about later with Jim if he cared to talk football.

  It was a team Jonathan favored, and I wondered if he was watching the same game back in Chicago. I hadn’t seen him outside of work for a while, and I considered sending him a quick text suggesting we hang when I got back into town, but of course I couldn’t. My regular phone was turned off so I couldn’t be tracked back to the area.

  Jim showed up just a few minutes late with one of the other security guys I had seen before, though only through my scope. He said his name was Damon, and he shook my hand like someone once told him a firm handshake would impress people. He made a lot of eye contact as well, also something he’d been taught and followed to a tee – not because he saw the value of it, but because someone he believed told him it was the right thing to do.

  He probably thought he intimidated people, but I just found it comical. It wasn’t like I was going to be told to go home at this point – Ashton was too paranoid to be down a security guy while waiting for all the background checks to be done. A thorough dig might have come up with the death certificate for Marshall Miller in a piss-ant town in Louisiana, but probably not. The rest of his record was clean.

  Within an hour of his overly enthusiastic handshake, Damon was fitting me with a little earpiece and introducing me to Phillip Tanner, Ashton’s public relations guy. He was the last stop before the man himself, and he spent a good forty-five seconds just looking me up and down.

  “Umm…hmmm,” he hummed under his breath. “I’m sure Mister Ashton will like this one.”

  I glanced at Jim, who just looked away from me. Their behavior confirmed my suspicions about Brad Ashton’s preferences. I was also introduced to Alex something-or-another, whose main job seemed to be to stand right outside the door to the hotel room and glare at people.

  “Marshall Miller,” Phillip announced as he opened up the door to the hotel suite and allowed me and the other security guys through.

  Ashton was on the far side of the room with a phone up to his ear, looking bored as he leaned back in the office chair by the desk, staring at his fingernails. His eyes moved over to the group entering the room, and he appraised me similarly to the way Phillip had outside. The look he gave me was decidedly less subtle than the one from his PR guy. There might have been some actual drool, which made me wonder if there wasn’t some other plan that might be just as effective. The way he was looking at me made my stomach tighten up.