by Korry Smith
Alex was behind me, running his hands through his hair.
“Remember. You fucking asked for this.”
“What?” I spun around to face him, and he was already upon me, lifting me up on the sink, forcing my knees apart and standing in between my legs.
He kissed me, his hot mouth urgent and everywhere: on my neck, my collarbone, my breasts, my stomach, and inching his way downward. The pads of his fingertips pressed against me, rubbing my arousal through the shorts.
My thoughts were chaotic, overwhelmed with his rough touch and smooth lips.
“Get down,” he ordered, pulling away from my aching lips and stepping back.
Gently lowering myself to my feet, he grabbed me by the hips and turned me around. He removed my gun and set it down with the Colt on the side counter.
“Hold on to the sink,” he said, our gazes meeting in the mirror’s reflection, his face severe and menacing.
I gripped the edge of the white porcelain.
He reached around me, unbuttoning my jeans, and pulling them down my legs. The cool breeze from the overhead AC vent caused my bare skin to pucker. Two large hands were on my ass, squeezing and kneading it, causing me to close my eyes. Then out of nowhere, he was biting and sucking at the flesh, marking me with his mouth.
“Shit,” I moaned, squeezing the edge of the sink until my knuckles turned white.
Alex pulled away and smacked me with his hand.
It stung, and I flinched. The pain of the slap reverberated, and I pushed my ass into him, begging for more.
He chuckled, smoothing his hand over the curve of my backside. “Do you want me to fuck you? Is that what you want?”
I bent over the sink and widened my stance.
“That’s my girl.” Grabbing the string on my thong, he fisted the fabric and yanked it off to the side. Pulling and tugging so hard, stressing the cotton until the elastic broke, he ripped them off me.
I watched him in the mirror, wearing a devilish grin as he pocketed my destroyed panties.
Sexy prick! What is he trying to do to me?
“Mine,” Alex murmured, slipping his hand between my legs. He groaned loudly, dropping his forehead to my back as he continued to caress my swollen lips. “Jesus, baby...so wet.”
There was a roar from within him, and he removed his fingers from my aching, throbbing and sensitive pussy. I whimpered from the loss, pushing my ass back, looking for more of his touch. He responded with a swift, painful spank to my cheek.
“Needy kitty,” he said, unbuttoning his jeans, and letting them drop to the floor.
There was a condom in his hand, and he tore it open with his teeth. It wasn’t long before he was pushing into me, but my guy took it easy and gave me time to adjust to his size. My inner muscles squeezed and tightened around him.
“Hold on,” he said, his hand moving into my hair, grabbing a fistful.
I bit my bottom lip, locking my elbows, and steadying myself. Alex rocked his hips, hitting every inch, and slammed in and out of me. My hands were slipping on the smooth surface of the sink; I was losing my grasp. Alex bent down and kissed my neck as he fucked me harder.
My moans echoed off the walls and straight to Alex’s ears. He pulled out, reaching down, dragging, and tapping the head of his cock along my slit, triggering every nerve ending. He rammed back in, hard and forceful, and my knees slowly buckled beneath me.
“Look at me,” Alex said, pulling my hair, and yanking my head up. “I want to see you.”
We gazed at each other through the mirror, each thrust pushing me forward. I felt that familiar stir of tingling warmth in my toes. I wanted to kiss him and taste him.
“That’s right, baby.” Reaching around me, he rubbed and pinched my clit. “Come for me.”
Turning my head as much as I could, I found his lips. He kissed me, his tongue pressing forcefully against mine.
He tasted good.
He felt good.
Alex broke away and gripped my hips. He drove into me fast and hard. The pain of his nails digging into my skin served as an intensifier, magnifying my pleasure.
I whimpered and came quickly.
Alex smirked, keeping his eyes locked on mine as he pumped and struck me more profoundly, coming into his release.
I watched with fascination as his face contorted with sensual gratification when he came: eyes shut tight, lips pursed, and brow furrowed in concentration.
Grunting loudly and resting his head on my shoulder, his cock jerked and twitched inside me. His thrusting slowed, eventually coming to a standstill. He stayed penetrated, fully sheathed by my hot, tight, and comforting pussy.
I smiled, reaching up and running my fingers through his hair. “I love you.”
He kept his head down and wrapped his arms around my waist, hugging me close. “Yeah, me too.”
“Um, baby,” I said, shifting under his body weight. “I think we should go.”
“Don’t move. Give me a minute.” He kissed my shoulder. “I want to enjoy this moment for a little bit longer.”
“Okay.”
Alex held me, breathing in slowly, and occasionally kissed my skin. It was nice, and I didn’t mind.
If he were willing, I would let him hold me forever, but in a semi-crowded restaurant with free refills flowing, someone was bound to want to use the public restroom. I knew our nestling time was coming to an end.
“Hello?” A timid voice came through the door, accompanied by a light tapping.
“Well, fuck.” Alex groaned, pulling out of me. He smacked my ass and winked. Gesturing towards the door, for me to get, my guy with his pants around his ankles shuffled towards the nearest stall.
“Someone’s in here!” I shouted.
“Oh, okay,” the voice replied, sad and muffled.
I’m not sure if they walked away or not, but I doubted it. It was going to make exiting with Alex hot on my heels awkward. The last thing we needed was someone giving us the third degree.
“Hey, stay in here and try to sneak out in a couple of minutes,” I said, pulling up my shorts and buttoning them. It felt weird without my panties, but they were in a better place.
“Sounds good,” he said from behind the orange-colored stall. “If the waitress is there to take our order, all I want is a cheeseburger.”
I chuckled, fixing my shirt, and smoothing down my hair. “I’ll let her know.”
Unlocking the door, I pulled it opened and saw a short, elderly woman waiting against the wall. She smiled politely at me, but seemed annoyed, especially when she’d seen there was more than one stall in the bathroom. She didn’t question me about it, just hobbled her walker forward, rolling over my foot with the wheel.
Smiling to myself, and the fun that Alex was about to have with that one, I strolled back to our table with extra pep to my step. It was amazing how much my mood changed. I felt so much more relaxed and happy. A far cry from when I first stomped my way to the bathroom.
Unfortunately, like most things concerning Alex and me, that feeling was short-lived.
Miguel was there and sitting in our booth. I stood like a statue, not sure what to do, and my eyes searched for Adriana and Peter. They were outside, leaning against this old-piece-of-shit looking Ford Escort. There wasn’t an ounce of worry on their faces. That could be worrisome if I weren’t privy to their distinct love for marijuana. Len sold them an ounce last night.
I reached into my back waistband for my gun, but it wasn’t there. It was on the bathroom counter.
Fuck!
My gut told me to turn around and avoid that man altogether, but it was too late for all that. Miguel had already spotted me, smiling with ease, and waving me over with his hand.
“Madison Rose,” Miguel called, rolling a butter knife between his fingers. “Come sit down, bonita.”
“Sure,” I said, sitting down at the table, keeping as much distance between us as humanly possible.
There wasn’t much Miguel could do to me being in a
crowded restaurant and with Alex five feet away. He would be crazy even to try it. Things were uncomfortable, for sure. The air was thick with tension. I had a pounding migraine. My stomach was doing somersaults from being so close to this vile man. But even with all that going on, I wasn’t in any immediate danger.
At least, I didn’t think I was.
Miguel smiled and gestured towards the bathroom with his thumb. “You guys are insatiable, no?”
I shrugged indifferently, trying to convey that the very thought of him spying on us wasn’t grossing me out.
“You are very young and virginal,” he said, setting down the knife and inclining his body towards me. “You’re just ripe enough for the picking.”
Counteracting his movements, I glared and leaned away. “What does that even mean?”
Miguel laughed, eyes roaming over my face and chest. “Alex is no idiot. No, he knew what he had when he saw you.” He reached out and stroked my cheek with the back of his hand. It was rough and dry, irritating to my skin. “Pero lo que es su pronto será mío.”
I jerked away, scooting out of the booth. “Don’t fucking touch me.”
“You’ve got a smart mouth for such a little girl,” Miguel spoke through gritted teeth as he grabbed my arm and yanked me back down to my seat. “I didn’t fucking excuse you, perra.”
The man was openly threatening me.
“Are you insane?” I asked, grimacing under his tight and painful grip. “He’ll kill you.”
Miguel laughed. “Oh, mi amor, he can’t kill me. Marcos would never allow it. Alex knows that if he kills me, it would be like committing suicide.”
I shook my head, the very thought of my love, my whole purpose of being, ceasing to exist was unimaginable to me.
“Oh, amigo.” Alex sighed, appearing out of nowhere and towering over the table. He placed his hand on Miguel’s shoulder and squeezed the tendon, causing the asshole to wince under the distress. “You severely underestimate me.”
Chapter Sixteen
“Yes, I see,” Miguel answered, his fingers digging into my skin as the grip on my arm continued to get tighter. He narrowed his black eyes on me. “I’ve severely underestimated how blinded and foolish you’ve become. She’s made you weak, cabrón.”
I returned his hateful glare as I jerked away from him. He was too close for my liking and the rancid stench of his breath every time he talked was stomach-turning.
Alex groaned, realizing that Miguel wasn’t going to play nice, and he pinched the bridge of his nose with frustration. “Get your fucking hands off my girl.”
Squirming in my seat, I tried to fight off this intense arousal that was building for my insanely hot and unstable boyfriend. My life was in danger, but my mind went blank with need, and everything faded away, reduced to one thing: Alex.
Miguel scoffed. “You’re willing to risk your business and your life for…” He paused, his gaze falling away from Alex and settling on me, looking as though my mere existence was insignificant. “For her?”
“Yes,” he replied without thought. I shot my head up to find him already looking down at me with a pained smile. “What’s a fucking life without her in it?”
My breath caught, and my heart skipped a fucking beat or two, staring at his eyes and seeing the truth behind them. Death was nothing when the thought of living without the person was much worse. Unable to handle the distance any longer, I slid across the seat to get up.
“Sit down, puta!” Miguel reached across the table to grab my arm and jerked me back into the booth. The force of it all caused my head to bang against the adjacent wall.
My vision went white.
“You motherfucker!” Alex snapped.
Slowly the white dissipated and I was able to focus on the fast-paced chaos as it exploded like an atom bomb. Alex launched his attack on Miguel’s face, punching him in the jaw and sending him sideways into the seat. He reached down and grabbed Miguel by the back of the neck, pulling him up and slamming his forehead into the wooden table. It wobbled under the continuous pounding, tipping the salt and pepper shakers over, and rattling the window.
My heart pumped with adrenaline, hammering relentlessly in my ears as I watched it all play out in front of me like a movie.
“Don’t you ever fucking call her that!” Alex growled through his clenched teeth, taking Miguel by the collar of his shirt, and yanking him to his feet. “Do you fucking understand me?”
He laughed, spitting the blood that was oozing from his mouth onto the linoleum. “You’re dead, amigo.”
“No, you’re dead, you arrogant fuck!” Alex punched him in the stomach.
Miguel hunched over in pain, sputtering, and gasping for air, only managing to get out a word or two.
I caught a glimpse of our poor waitress as she stood frozen behind the counter with a tray of food in her hand, wide-eyed and unsure whether she should intervene. I shook my head, urging her to stay away.
“You stupid fucking piece of shit!” Alex grunted and grabbed Miguel by the throat, heaving him back up and keeping him still and complacent. “Why couldn’t you just go to fucking Kansas City like we discussed, huh? You just had to come here and be the gangster, didn’t you?”
Reaching down, Alex removed a gold-plated, long barrel revolver from Miguel’s waistband. He set it down on the table and slid it over to me. I quickly grabbed it and concealed it in the front of my jeans, covering the handle with my shirt.
“Are you okay?” he asked, glancing over at me as I stood up. His eyes, once wild with fury had softened, roamed over my face and body inspecting me for injury. “Are you hurt anywhere?”
“No, not really... I’m just a little sore, you know?” I tenderly touched the growing goose egg on my right temple, but Alex’s focus was on the red fingerprints on my arms that were already turning into a dark purple, a telltale sign of a deep bruise.
It looked a lot worse than it felt, but my guy reacted on sight, and the all too consuming wrath erupted within him. Blinded by pure rage, he pulled out his Colt and cocked it.
“That’s strike three, fucker. Your times up!” Alex pressed the muzzle against Miguel’s face and forced it into his mouth.
I had seen that look in his eyes before, but never this strongly. He was going to shoot him. I watched his finger slowly squeeze down on the trigger.
No, no, this can’t happen.
We’d already managed to attract some curious onlookers with all the commotion. There was no way to get out of there after openly murdering a man. Blood would be everywhere.
“Alex,” I said in a gentle tone, placing my hand on his back. He looked down at me, and I nodded my head towards our captivated audience. “Not here, baby.”
Following my gaze, he noticed all the wannabe cowboys and hicks coming to our aid, but he took this as an aggressive gesture and turned the gun on them. “Back the fuck up! You don’t want to get involved in this.”
“Now just settle down there, young man,” an older man said, approaching cautiously with his hands raised.
“Are you fucking deaf? I said back the fuck up!” Alex shouted.
The man stopped to heed the warning. “We don’t want any trouble.”
There were ten people scattered around, men mostly, and there was a slim chance that they were carrying weapons on them. I didn’t think we had enough bullets to win if there was a sudden shoot-out.
I needed to deescalate the situation.
“There’s no trouble,” I said, taking a couple of twenty-dollar bills out of Alex’s pocket, and throwing them on the table. “We were just leaving.” I tugged on his shirt. “Weren’t we, baby?”
Alex lowered his gun. “Yeah, that’s right.” He then turned the Colt back on Miguel, jabbing him in the ribs and nudging him forward. “Start moving, fucker.”
Slowly, one by one, all the men sat down and watched as we passed. I hooked my fingers securely into the loop of Alex’s jeans, staying in step with his long legs and broad stride.
> The air was thick with tension as we walked down the aisle towards the door, and the diner that was bustling with noise less than a second ago, suddenly hushed into silence. If a single drop of water were to fall to the tile floor in the kitchen, I would hear it.
“Once I’ve killed you,” Miguel spoke low, “I’m going to take that puta of yours and put my mouth all over her delicious, and tight—" The sudden and brisk impact of him slamming up against the window cut the bastard off mid-sentence.
Alex had grabbed him by the back of the neck and smashed his face into the door that led outside, causing it to swing open. There was a spider crack in the glass and a gash on Miguel’s forehead.
“You were saying?”
Miguel moaned in response, tripping over his feet, disoriented from the massive blow to the skull.
“Stupid piece of shit,” Alex grumbled, reaching for me as I stood behind him. He slid his hand along my body and took a fistful of my shirt, yanking me forcefully to his back. “Did you honestly fucking think that you could disrespect my girl and that I wouldn’t do anything about it?”
Miguel answered with a slew of profanities in Spanish, spitting and thrashing around. The blood was gushing out in spurts, staining the concrete sidewalk a bright red.
Peter pushed off the side of the car to help Alex in dragging a limp Miguel across the parking lot.
“Is it that time?” he asked.
“Not here,” Alex said, forcing the brunt of all of Miguel’s dead weight into Peter’s arms. Turning around, he drew me into a tight hug and kissed the top of my head. Pulling away, he gently ushered me towards the car. “Get in, kid.”
Taking one last glance back, I saw multiple sets of eyes peering out from the inside. They watched us as we left with their faces pressed up and mashed against the glass.
The word about our little visit was going to travel fast and wide.
We all piled into the small Ford Escort, Adriana and Peter in front, Alex, me, and Miguel in the backseat. The stolen Harley left behind and parked on the south side of the building, hidden by three bushes. Not easily spotted from the road, but if the owner were to stop and look around, he would find it.
