by Tahlia Gold
She doesn’t pull back so I put my tongue between her lips and she presses hers back into mine. My hand comes up to her breast and I squeeze it. Her nipple hardens underneath my fingers and she lets out a faint moan. I can feel how responsive her body is. It’s probably been a while since she was with someone who can touch her the right way. I bet she’s wet already.
My dick is rock hard. I lead her over to the bed and lay her down then strip my shirt off and lay down on her. I’m kissing her hard now, our mouths stuck together like magnets. I fumble my hand at her pants. They’re held together by a drawstring that I quickly untie. My hand slips inside her underwear and my finger dips into her wet slit.
I was right, she’s so fucking wet.
God I can’t wait to put my dick in there. I’ve been waiting six years for this moment.
A loud knock comes at the door.
Her body lurches at the noise and she looks around wildly.
Goddammit. “Just a second,” I say.
I get up from the bed. My cock is pushing hard against my jeans. I snatch the door open and say, “What the fuck do you want?”
It’s Small Boy. He sees me without a shirt on and looks over my shoulder towards the bed. “Sorry, Big D,” he says. “But some shit’s going down outside. I think you better come.”
“Seriously? I’m in the middle of something,” I say.
“A couple guys on bikes threw fire bombs over the fence. Road Dawg’s bike is on fire.”
“Shit. All right. I’ll be there in a second.”
I close the door and start putting my shirt on. “Listen,” I say, “I’ll be back in a little bit. Just stay right here.”
She sits up in the bed. I can see her nipples through her top. Fuck me. “Is everything okay?” She looks worried.
“Yeah, don’t even worry. Just make yourself at home and I’ll be back before you know it.”
Outside, it’s a shit show. There’s a motorcycle on fire and guys are beating at it with a blanket trying to put it out. Road Dawg is shaking his head as he watches.
I go to him. “What the fuck is this?”
“Probably Soul Crushers. The pussies just hurled a couple Molotovs over the fence then took off.”
“Anybody hurt?”
“Naw. That bike’s going to need a new seat though.”
“Are we going to go after them?” I ask.
He shakes his head. “I don’t think so. Might be a trap. They’re pussies but even they aren’t so weak to think throwing a couple cocktails is payback. They’re probably planning a jackpot if we go out there. I think we just regroup tomorrow.”
I nod. “Makes sense. Prez isn’t here?”
“Fuck no.” Road Dawg says. “He’s never around when shit goes down anymore.”
I shrug. It’s no secret that Road Dawg has been eyeing the top seat at the table for a while now. I don’t get involved in the politics of the club. I just crack heads and do what I’m told.
“Let me know tomorrow what you need,” I say. “I’m ready to do whatever.”
“That’s what I like to hear,” he says.
I go back to my room and open the door. I say, “Okay, everything’s fine.”
Jess doesn’t respond. Her eyes are closed and she’s breathing heavy. I sit down on the bed, not making any effort to keep from waking her. Actually, I want her to wake up. But she doesn’t; she’s out like a light.
Fuck.
9
Jess
My legs are spread wide. I’m pulling his face into my pussy. His tongue laps against my clit. My back arches as I moan.
“God that feels so good. Don’t stop.”
He looks up at me and grins. I can see my wetness shimmering on his chin.
“Don’t stop Dylan,” I moan. I want him so bad it hurts. I need him.
He inserts a finger between my wet lips then gently runs it up towards my taught clit. “Do you like that?” he asks.
“Yes.” The word comes out long, and thin, full of breath. “Please,” I say. “Please. I need your cock inside me.”
He gets up on his knees and grabs my legs in his thick hands, pulling them wide, his massive dick pointing towards my entrance.
“Is this what you want?” He’s smiling.
“Yes! Don’t tease me.” My body needs him. I need him.
He comes down to me, rests his weight on me. It feels perfect having his naked body against mine.
The tip of his cock touches my labia and I moan but he holds it back.
I pull on his muscled ass, trying in vain to make him enter me. “Please, baby,” I beg him.
I wake in an unfamiliar place, soaked in sweat. I slept in my clothes. My dream fades into the void as I realize where I am. Dylan is asleep next to me. The sheets are pulled down. He’s only wearing his underwear and I can see the outline of his hard cock through the thin material. Pieces of a dream come back to me. The heat between my legs is real. Light streams in through the window and illuminates the contours of his rugged face.
What time is it?
I never set an alarm last night. I fell asleep without setting my alarm. Fuck.
I scramble to find my purse. Shit. My hands fumble with the zipper. Damn it. I finally get the thing open and fish my phone out.
7:40am
“Fuck!” I yell.
Dylan sits up with his fists clenched and jumps out of bed. His eyes dart around the room.
My shift starts at 8am and Webber is the attending. This is not happening. Damn it. This can’t be happening.
“What is it?” He asks, the sleep making his voice deep, groggy.
“I’m late.”
My shoes. Where the hell are my shoes? I spot them at the end of the bed. I don’t even remember taking them off. His jeans are on the floor next to my shoes. There’s a black pistol resting on the top of his jeans.
Jesus Christ. What the fuck am I doing? If I had time I would lecture him about all the gunshot wounds I’ve seen. He sees me staring at his gun while I pull my shoes on.
He picks it up and puts it on the dresser. “What time do you have to be there?”
“Twenty minutes,” I say. “Fifteen minutes now.”
Fuck me. I grab my purse and head for the door.
“Wait,” he says. “I’ll take you.”
“No. I don’t have time for any fake macho bullshit. I’m going to be late. I can’t be late.”
“Listen,” he says. His voice is calm, even. “You’re going to get backed up on the expressway at this time. It will take you at least 45 minutes to get there if you’re lucky.”
“Thanks for the news flash. Now please get out of my way.”
“My point is if I take you on my bike I can split the lanes and I can have you there in 15 minutes.”
My mind races. He’s right. Traffic will be hell. But do I want to risk my life with a man I don’t even know anymore? A man that leaves handguns lying around on the floor? Fuck it. I hate being late. I’m never late. When I go to work, I usually get there 30 minutes early. I can’t be late. Not today. Not when Webber is going to notice.
“Fine.”
He throws on his clothes and before I know it we’re barreling down the road. The wind is rushing over my face. I’m holding him tight around the waist. The bike’s deep engine rumbles between my legs.
When we get on the expressway, he cuts through the middle of the cars. They’re flying by so fast it’s a blur. This isn’t safe. I look down at the speedometer. We’re going sixty when everyone around us is doing five, tops. People honk as we go by and the sound distorts as we move away.
Dylan has to slam on the brakes when a car almost cuts in front of us. My body tenses for the impact that never comes; he manages to miss them by a couple inches at the most. And he feels totally relaxed between my arms. This man is completely insane.
We pull up to the hospital. My whole body is vibrating as I strip the helmet off. My hair probably makes me look like Medusa. I don’t give a shit. I
hand him the helmet and say thank you before I rush up toward the Emergency Department doors.
Of course. Webber is standing there with her arms folded. I ignore her as I walk into the hospital. The clock on the wall says 8:00am exactly.
Suck it, bitch!
She comes in behind me. “Try getting here on time Jessica.”
“Sorry,” is all I say. I don’t even bother mentioning that I am on time. She knows I’m on time. She was counting the seconds, waiting for me, for the sole purpose of being able to bitch me out. So she can have her empty victory. We both know what happened.
“That guy is trouble,” she says.
“My personal life is none of your business,” I say.
“That may be but what happens in this building is completely my business.”
10
Dylan
I’m in my room because I don’t want to talk to any of the guys at the moment. We’re going to plan something to get those slimy Soul Crusher fucks back but that’s not where my thoughts are right now.
Jess. I can’t get her out of my fucking head.
Somebody knocks on my door.
“I’m busy,” I shout.
They knock again.
“What the fuck do you want?” I yell.
The door opens. It’s Trixie. She’s a dancer that works in our strip club. I’ve fucked her a few times. She’s a complete nympho and pretty good in bed. But she’s the last thing I want to see right now.
She says, “What’s up?”
“What do you need?” I ask.
“I don’t need nothing. I’m just stopping by to see if you want to have a little fun.”
“I’m good Trixie.”
“Yeah? Cause you’re fucking that little nurse that was around here last night? Is that it? You think you’re too good for me now?”
Jesus. Stripper drama is the last thing I want. “Yes, Trixie, I do think I’m too good for your skinny, coked-up white trash ass.”
“Fuck you!” She slams the door.
I didn’t need to be so mean to her but it got her out of there fast which was the goal.
I still can’t believe I didn’t get to fuck Jess. It was so hard just lying there next to her, wanting to wake her up. Wanting to put my dick inside her. But she was so damn tired I’m sure she needed the sleep more than I needed to get laid.
Since when have I cared what a woman needs more than I care about getting my dick wet?
I’m losing it.
I needed to fuck her. That was the plan. Fuck her, then forget about her. Now she’s in my mind twice as hard. And what’s worse, I’m thinking about my old life. The life I’ve been trying like hell to forget. Trying to forget the crushing guilt I feel about her brother getting murdered.
I’ve spent every day since then trying to avoid thinking about that and trying to avoid it ever happening again. Avoid someone getting killed because I wasn’t there to help them.
Those are thoughts that have no business in my head.
Maybe I should just forget about her. Forget about her perfect fucking body. Those perfect tits. Her perfect mouth. Kissing her again brought back so many memories. In a way, when I kissed her last night, it felt like I was back there in our old neighborhood. Back where everything made sense. Back where good people don’t get gunned down.
Back in a fucking fantasy land.
Life isn’t like that. Good people die and the world keeps on spinning. Spinning whether you want it to or not.
But I’m still going to fuck her. I’m not one to leave unfinished business. And I don’t even know if I could stop this if I tried. What’s that thing they say? Try not to think about a purple elephant. It’s impossible once the idea is in your head. Try not to think about the prettiest girl you’ve ever met and the fact that you could be fucking her but you aren’t.
No. I’m still going to fuck her. I’m going to fuck her then forget about her. That’s what I always do.
11
Jess
I’m at the hospital and it’s relatively slow so I’m trying to study for board exams between patients.
But my head isn’t in it.
I keep thinking about last night. About kissing him. It was so fucking hot. I was going to let him take me any way he wanted right then. It felt so good to have a man so close. I could almost feel the testosterone coursing through his veins.
But isn’t he the opposite of what I need in my life right now? Yes, he’s hot. Yes, he could give me a good time in bed, which I obviously am lacking. But he’s a wild criminal. No, that’s not fair. I don’t know that he’s a criminal. I don’t even know what he does for work. For all I know he could work in an office somewhere, wearing a suit, sitting through meetings. Right…
It’s probably more along the lines of robbing banks or selling meth for the cartel. Rat-race office workers don’t carry guns.
Madison comes up to me. I know what she’s going to say before she says it because she’s been saying it all day long.
“Tell me what happened last night! I can’t take it anymore.”
If I don’t tell her, she’s never going to give up. And why am I hiding it, anyway? Nothing even really happened.
“Nothing happened. I went to his club house.”
“Oh my god. I can’t believe I missed that. Was it like Sons of Anarchy?”
“Um… I don’t know. Is that a movie?”
“It’s a TV show. Never mind. Then what happened?”
“We were just having a drink, talking, then a couple guys started fighting. He said it was normal. But then it got pretty loud so we went to his room.”
“Bow chicka wow-wow,” Madison says.
“Oh, shut up. Nothing happened.”
“Nothing? You’re telling me you were alone with this hot biker, and nothing happened. He didn’t make a move?”
I feel my face reddening as I play back the kiss in my mind. “Well, he kissed me.”
“And?”
“And it was… nice.” Understatement of the century. If I could kiss a guy like that every day I would be the happiest woman in the world.
“Nice. That sounds just lovely. Did you sit down for tea afterwards?”
“We moved to the bed. Things were starting to… heat up, I guess.” And by heat up I really mean he had his finger inside me. I think if that had gone on for ten more seconds I would have come right then. The heat is starting to come back between my legs just thinking about it.
Madison says, “Come on! Give me some details! Does he have a big dick? I bet he does. I have a sixth sense for dick size.”
I grin. I’m not about to start talking about someone’s dick size at work. The image of his hard cock pressing against his underwear this morning flashes into my mind. Fuck, I wish I could have had it inside me. “The rest of the story,” I say, “isn’t that great.”
“Why? What happened?”
“I fell asleep.”
“Shut up. He was about to bang you and you just fell asleep?”
“No. He had to go outside for some reason and I guess I was so exhausted I just dozed off. I woke up this morning with all my clothes on. I guess he pulled my shoes off for me.”
“Aww. That’s so romantic,” she says.
“Is it?”
“Well, at least he didn’t try to bang you in your sleep. That actually happened to me once.”
“What? Gross.”
“I know. So then he drove you to work on his motorcycle?”
“I was going to be late so he offered and I accepted.”
“So I guess you’ll see him again soon,” she says.
“No. I think I’m done with that.”
“What about your car?”
Shit. I completely forgot about my car. I have to go pick it up. Maybe I can just go over without talking to him. “I guess I’ll have to go get it.”
“You should go get more than just your car.”
“Madison,” I say. But I can’t keep the grin from creeping acro
ss my face. It’s nice to feel like this again. It feels like the first time I had a serious crush on a guy. Now that I think about it, that guy was Dylan.
“I have to go,” Madison says. “Thanks for the juicy details.”
I try to bury my head in studying about abdominal pain but my mind keeps going back to one thing.
I take out my phone and send him a text.
Me: I need to pick up my car at some point.
Dylan: No you don’t.
Great. Why did I think this would be easy?
Me: Yes I do. I have to be able to drive.
Dylan: Your car is outside the hospital.
What? I go outside and find that he’s not lying. My car is sitting right there in the parking lot in a spot close to the entrance of the ER.
Me: How did you do that? Did you hot wire my car?
Dylan: Relax. Don’t get your panties in a bunch.
Me: I don’t appreciate you stealing my car.
Dylan: One of my friends drives a tow truck. I had him bring it over to you as a favor. You’re welcome.
Me: Oh. Thanks.
I feel terrible. Now he knows I think he’s a criminal.
Dylan: Don’t worry about it. I was thinking about chopping it up and selling it for parts but I decided it wasn’t worth the hassle. That thing is a piece of junk.
Me: Very funny.
Dylan: Hey I got a medical question.
Me: Okay…
Dylan: Is it true that a guy can die from blue balls? Cause you gave me a bad case last night.
If women could get blue balls, I think I would have it too. But I’m not about to tell him that.
Me: I’m sure you can get one of those girls I saw hanging around last night to take care of you.
Dylan: When can I see you again? We have some unfinished business.
Me: That’s flattering but I really don’t have time to date anybody.
Dylan: Lol. Who said anything about a date? I’m talking about two adults enjoying each other’s company.
