Rebel Chasers

by Carmen Faye

  “Maybe,” Shayla admitted. “I don’t know. Neil would know though. What concerns me is what Anton defines as a ‘traitor.’”

  “You think he would try something like that if we quit?”

  “I don’t think so, but if he thought we were really dealing for someone else, he might,” she told Sydney.

  “So, we need to make it really clear that we are not dealing for the Highwaymen or anyone else,” Sydney mused.

  “Yeah. That’s probably going to be a very good idea.”

  Neil didn’t get back to the apartment until after ten, and when he came through the door, he looked grim.

  They gave him some space and got him a beer. After helping him out of his jacket and boots they let him sit down and decompress for a while.

  After his second beer was nearly done, Sydney went to get him a third and Shayla finally asked, “Do you want to talk about it?”

  “I quit the dope running. Not going to do that anymore. So, I don’t know who is going to be coming over for you now, but I want to be here when he shows up,” Neil told them.

  Shayla looked at Sydney, and then said, “I don’t see a problem with that. In fact, I’m glad you feel that way. New delivery men always make me nervous.”

  “Yeah, I heard that Frank gave you a hard time,” Neil said, referring to the guy before him.

  “No, Frank wanted to give us his hard time and made it really clear that he thought he should get a blow job for delivering the coke to us,” Sydney clarified with an expression of disgust.

  “Well, with me here, that won’t happen. At least, I don’t think anyone in the club is that stupid,” Neil mused.

  She took of her shirt and snuggled up to him. “So, what made you quit? Just tired? Or did something happen?”

  Neil studied her and said, “Something happened. I don’t really want to talk about it right now, though. I’m still working it around in my head.”

  “Alright, that’s fine. If you want to talk some other time, we’ll listen. Probably won’t have answers, but we’ll listen,” she offered.

  She rubbed up against his side with her breasts. “Um, there is something we want to talk with you about, though. Are you in the mood, or too worked up?”

  “No, I’m good. What’s going on?”

  They told him about the Gomez brothers, and then asked about retaliation.

  “Well, they weren’t with them very long, but it looks bad if they do nothing. I expect we’ll get something from them soon. Not sure what, but something will pop.”

  “I’m glad we never sold coke out of here,” Sydney said. “No one except the club knows where we live.”

  “That’s good to know,” Neil told her. “Do you have a safe house of any type?”

  “Safe house?” Shayla asked.

  “Yeah, a place you keep ready in case you have to run. A place no one knows where to look for you. Usually it’s even in another part of the city, but obviously not hard to get to.”

  “No, but now that you said that, I think that might be a good idea,” she said thoughtfully.

  “I have two I keep. One is a little studio near downtown and another is a two bedroom up in the north area. I keep cloths, guns, cash, and supplies there.” Neil explained.

  “Could we use yours?” Sydney asked.

  “You mean, stock it with stuff of your own? Sure. I’ll give you the address, and get you a key made,” Neil told them.

  “We should probably get a new safe for that place. Not like this one, but something large and solid,” Sydney said.

  “How big is the bed?” Shayla asked with a playful grin.

  “Just a full size. I didn’t think about company,” Neil said with a smile.

  “Well, what are the boundaries? I mean, can we put things in there that we feel we need? Like a safe and new curtains, and a few plants? Or is it a man’s club house?” Shayla asked.

  “You’re not supposed to visit a safe house very often because you could be followed, and then someone knows where it is, which defeats the whole purpose. So, maybe plants would be a bad choice, along with any food that is going to spoil. Other than that, set it up as you wish,” he told them.

  “So, if we run, that’s where we run to?” Shayla affirmed.

  “Yes,” Neil agreed.

  “Maybe we should get our own, though,” she mused. “Or rather, a place near the college that we will all live in as soon as we quit. We’ll just walk away totally and head there. Get our last names changed and rent it out under “Jackson.” There are, what, two billion Jacksons in the city? So we get it set up, furnished, get most of our things over there. Then we can just walk out of here with a few boxes, lock the door, and be gone.”

  “Like some place in Coconut Grove?” Sydney asked.

  “I don’t think so,” Shayla said with a laugh. “ That’s high-dollar. Remember, we aren’t going to have an income. But maybe Corral Terrace. That’s kind of nice, isn’t it? And it was on the cheaper side.”

  “We can look,” Sydney agreed.

  CHAPTER FOURTEEN

  On Wednesday, Brian, the new delivery man for Neil’s route, came back from Shayla’s and Sydney’s apartment to the club with $72,000 in his case.

  “Ah, the cunt’s money. Good,” Anton said as he came through the office door.

  “Might want to watch that around Neil, or any of Neil’s friends. Which is most of the club,” Brian told him.

  “Watch what?”

  “The ‘cunt’ thing.”

  “Why? What’s that have to do with Neil?” Anton asked.

  “When I got over there, he was there.”

  “What? Like hanging out? Getting a blowjob? What?”

  “I think he’s living with them?” Brian said, setting the case down.

  “Living with them? Are you serious? Both of them?”

  “I got the feeling that was the case, yes,” Brian said, waiting for his payment.

  “Are you trying to tell me that Neil, that big dumb muscle-bound oaf, is doing both of those girls?”

  “Did I mention I’m a friend of his, too? Maybe I missed that part,” Brian said, leveling his eyes with this president. “But yes. I think they are both involved with him. And seeing that they are both wearing the same engagement rings, I think it is pretty serious.”

  “Is that so,” Anton mused. “So, I have a guy who quits his route and just walks away from several thousand a week, living with my two best sales girls, who I now have to bribe to do four kilos a week, when they use to do eight. I don’t think I like the way this smells.”

  “Could I get my envelope? I got some things to take care of,” Brian asked, clearly uninterested.

  “I mean,” Anton said, ignoring Brian, “Losing Neil is one thing. I said muscle-bound, and fuck if he ain’t. And a hitter? Shit, that guy could stop a Mack truck with his punch. I saw him hit a guy once, and I swear to you, the man went fucking vertical and flew back at least four feet. And this was no small guy either. I was fucking amazed. So, losing him would be a bad thing, definitely, but if he is determined to walk away, then he’s going to walk away.”

  Brian seemed exasperated and impatient to get his money. Still, however, Anton ignored him and leaned forward on his desk. “But I’ll be damned if I’m going to let him walk away with the best sales team we have. That shit is not happening.”

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  CHAPTER ONE

  Its five weeks since Neil put his ring on Shayla’s finger and every time she wakes and sees the sunlight inside the two-carat diamond, the sparkle goes straight through her heart, just like it is doing right now. It was Monday morning, and the clock said it was just after ten. Shayla stared and smiled and shivered with the wonder of being this loved.

  When Neil’s hand came over her side and cupped h
er breast, she stretched and bent her back so that she could look over her shoulder to see his eyes. Their eyes met and she saw deep lust there for her. Usually it was Sydney who got the morning fucks; Sydney with her round, tight butt and her perky tits. Sydney’s curves would give Barbie a complex and definitely steal Ken. But Neil’s eyes and his hands, as well as his sex with her, all assured her with daily affirmation that her heart-shaped ass and her tear-drop breasts were just as attractive to him, and certainly just as arousing.

  She’s taller, but only by two inches. Her legs are longer in proportion to her body. Other than that, Sydney and she are nearly identical. The silk blond hair down to the middle of their backs and the deep blue baby eyes are just the same. They wear the same sized clothing, the same bra size, the same shoe size.

  She has found that Neil comes to her when he wants deep, slow, fulfilling sex. He tends to go to Sydney when he wants animalistic sex. Sydney is definitely the fun one. She is quick to giggle, quick to run, quick to jump in with both feet and ravage him. Sydney will charge into the room and throw herself onto the bed, whereas Shayla walks and comes to him as a seductress. She sits on the edge of the bed and then does her best to enthrall him. She offers everything, without limitation—but then, so does Sydney, and Sydney even lets him do anal, which Shayla has yet to try.

  So, when Neil’s hand rubbed and deeply fondled her breasts in the morning, she had to ask herself, What is troubling his mind? She was also the one he talked to most of the time when he was working out some puzzle or perplexing situation.

  These were generalities, certainly. Neil seeks both of their points of view, and respects both of their ideas and counsel. He enjoys sex with both of them, one-on-one or both at the same time.

  Over the last couple of weeks he had brought her back to their bed and made love to her for hours. Just her and him. And then he laid with her talking about things couples talk about: movies, books, what they would do with yard space if they had some, what travel dreams they have—stuff. Stuff that makes up lives that are together.

  He had also done the same with Sydney, though with her there is a lot more laughing, and bouncing, and flying hair. This had sometimes made Shayla wish she was more fun, and less serious—until Neil kisses her, and fondles her ass, and melts her. Then she is just fine with who she is and what she means to him.

  Neil was kissing her neck and pulling playfully at her nipples. She rubbed her legs against his and told him with a soft, warm, morning voice, “Yes Neil, take me.”

  She often feels like the woman, the provider of pleasure. She is Neil’s woman, but she is also Sydney’s woman.

  When they decided that Neil was too important to them to risk losing, and that their own friendship was too important to risk, and therefore committed to sharing Neil, she understood that she would always have sexual encounters with Sydney. That was just part of the package. In the heat of passion—and Neil is definitely a flamethrower in that department—you’re not exactly picky about whose lips you might be kissing, or whose nipple you might be sucking. Also, the two of them had shared experiences with each other for the last two years. And, for the weeks between meeting Neil and seducing him, they used each other regularly, because neither of them was interested in sex with any other man—it just seemed pointless.

  So, girl-girl sex was an accepted raiment, a garment she was willing to wear, and even a source of sexual gratification. She loved Sydney. Sydney was the first true love of her life. Her family life was shit. She knew at six that whatever it was parents offered their children emotionally, she was never going to get from them. By the time she was in puberty, she knew she was on her own with her sexuality and relationships as well. She tried sex in high school, found it not up to the hype, and ignored boys from that point forward—until she met Sydney. When Sydney came into her life, many things changed. Sydney was the one who taught her all the things she didn’t know about sex, and furthermore, she taught her how to enjoy sex.

  Several weeks ago, Sydney confessed that yes, she loved her, but she was also in love with her. It wasn’t just girl-girl action in the heat of passion for Sydney, but something much deeper; something that filled her heart and not just her libido. She said she wanted to be able to kiss her during the day, like lovers do. She wanted to touch her, and connect with her outside of the bedroom, like lovers do. Sydney said she wanted these things, but Shayla saw that she actually needed these things. So, she offered Sydney fulfillment of these desires and needs in the house. It felt like she was hiding Sydney, and well… she was. She wasn’t ready for public displays of intimate affection with Sydney. She wouldn’t turn her away in their apartment—she would even enjoy Sydney’s attentions—but not publicly.

  So, she was the provider of affection for both of them. They both caressed her and fondled her. They both sought her lips, and made out with her in the kitchen or on the couch. Sometimes they did this at the same time. Most often during movie time—a time which was quickly equating to “drive Shayla insane with desire” time.

  Neil, after he puzzled out Sydney’s new level of physical affection and talked it out with her, began sharing Shayla with Sydney. His favorite thing to do during a movie was to lay her across his lap, so that her ass was on his thighs. This would also put her upper back on Sydney’s lap. Then he would work her pants off, and Sydney would take off her top— and bra if she was wearing one—and then they would rub and massage her while they watched the movie together.

  She rarely sees the end of movies anymore. If she wants to watch the end, she has to do it the next morning, while they’re both still in bed or having sex together. By the middle of any movie, no matter how engaging, she is having soft-light orgasms, and then liquid-light orgasms, and then trembling orgasms. Neil’s cock his hard against her ass all through the rest of the movie, and Sydney’s nipples are rock hard and she can smell her sexual perfume.

  After the movie, either Sydney will go down on her while Neil fucks Sydney’s round, tight ass, or they will turn her so that she is going down on Sydney while Neil hard-fucks her ass mercilessly. She’s not quite sure which she enjoys more, but it is quite apparent that she doesn’t get to choose. They decide between themselves, with some form of communication she hasn’t divined yet.

  There are other moments which lead to sharing her between them, but movie time has become a constant, so if she doesn’t want to be sexed to the edge of insanity, she has to go to the office and amuse herself. She’s done this twice over the last couple of weeks, and neither of them bothered her or tried to coerce her into pleasuring them. They simply watched the movie and then fucked each other afterward.

  Neil pulled back her shoulder, pushing her flat to the mattress, and came up above her and between her thighs, which she spread willingly. She pushed her heels into the mattress and lifted her hips so that her pussy was fully accessible to him as a shiver of anticipation verves her spine.

  Neil hovered above her, his deep dark hair falling around her face, his cobalt gray eyes lit with fire and lust. His chest muscles were flexed, and so were his shoulders and arms, which were like pillars on each side of her body. He’s six-four. His shoulders are intimidatingly wide, and thick—roped with well-defined, powerful muscles. His body is that of a violent and dangerous man. Even his features are hard—chiseled, as if stone became flesh. Hovering above her like this, she always quailed a little, and a feeling of helplessness always induced a very slight adrenaline rush. His presence touched instinctive depths, exciting her primal fight-or-flight responses. Under his piercing gaze she arched her neck, offering her throat and presenting her breasts. She whimpered softly. She became completely submissive.

  This is so new to her, so completely out of character for her, that she was very conflicted and highly emotional after the first one-on-one session with him. She never gave authority to her men. She never submitted to them. She was, sexually, a predator; a great cat. She often visualized herself in this manner. She seduced them. She took them to bed.
She fucked them. Their job was to satisfy her.

  With Neil this was never the case, and it confused the shit out of her.

  “Neil? I feel like I’m losing me,” she told him tearfully, after their second one-on-one encounter. “I feel like the best parts of me, the parts I am most proud of, are being taken away from me. I don’t understand.”

  “Taken?” he asked, “Or offered? If I am taking them from you, then why are you still the strongest woman I’ve ever been with? I feel, what I experience with you, is an offering, a willingness to be vulnerable with me. It feels amazing. I feel like you are telling me I’m worthy of you.”

  “Worthy of me? Neil,” she sighed, “You own me, all of me.” Then she felt the rush of epiphany.