by Ronnie Allen
“You gave your dildo a gender?”
“Hell, yeah. He couldn’t be a she, now could he?”
He kissed her cheek. “Does he have a name, too?”
“Yeah, but I’m not telling you.” Her voice was coy.
“I can just imagine.”
Or hope.
He rolled over onto his back, shaking with deep laughter. “Okay, that’s it. Now you’re in for it.”
He stood up, put out his hand. She grabbed it and he pulled her up and into his arms. He grabbed her on her butt, shimmied her up his body, and, with her legs wrapped around him at his waist and her head nestled in the crook of his neck, carried her down the steps, and into the locker area.
***
Frank walked into the ladies bathroom when Sam was finger-combing her hair. She had a white towel wrapped around her that opened in the front in a V, revealing her thatch. She stared at his hard length protruding from under his own towel and closed her eyes for a moment.
Oh yeah, he planned to do plenty to her with his manhood.
“Have any trees in here to swing on, Tattooman?”
Without saying a word, he scooped her up in his arms, threw her over his right shoulder, and carried her out of the bathroom. “Isn’t this what they used to do in those days?” He completed his question with a pop to her behind, keeping his left hand on her butt.
“Ooh, think so. Where are you taking me?”
“You’ll see, princess. Be patient.” As he carried her, he patted her butt cheeks, softly, as one would do to an infant to calm them down. Lightly. To warm her up.
“Oooh, that feels good. Don’t stop.” They entered the main section of the gym. “It’s cold in here.”
He opened the door to his office. “You won’t be cold for much longer.”
“Your office? We’re going to play in your office? Your desk is crammed with paper work.”
“Would you stop?” He gently smacked her bottom, again. “You’re one bad girl, you know that?” He punched keys on a pad on the wall opposite his desk and slipped her down off him so that she could see as the wall slid open. “Come on in to my secret place.”
As they entered the room, dimmed lights went on. Electric candles illuminated one by one in wrought iron holders placed intermittently on the walls. Sam seemed to be entranced as her gaze scanned the room.
She didn’t notice that he had slipped both their towels off and let them fall to the carpet.
“Oh my God, Frank, this is beautiful.” She touched the wall and let her fingers roam on the three dimensional waves. She walked the length of the room with her fingers dancing on the blue-green water. “These murals, hand painted?” He nodded. She did, too. “The water, the sand. Looks so real. Down to the pebbles on the beach.” She peered at them closer. “This is magnificent.” She turned to take in the rest of the room. “On all the walls. It’s like we’re really there. Like we’re on a beach, within a cave. Frank, is this real place?”
“Beach on the Greek Isles. Jen and I went there on our honeymoon. This was replicated from a photo we took.” He turned on the audio--ocean water, waves crashing into rocks. Melodic sounds, so relaxing. So sensual. He wanted this night to be special for him and Sam.
“It’s amazing.” She turned to the center of the room. “Ooh. A round bed.”
“I love round. Like this tush.” He lightly pinched her bottom.
She laughed and stuck out her bottom for him to do it again. He patted her, moving her toward the bed.
“Frank, this is gorgeous. It looks like the bed is within a cave, with the shades of brown as the backdrop.” She sat down on the bed and her hands slid over the sea blue comforter. “Silk?”
He smiled, slipped his hand under her, and pulled the comforter out of the way. He tapped her shoulder and she fell back onto the pillow.
Her arms spread wide on the bed. “Yikes, it’s cold.”
“Prepare to be warmed up, real soon.”
“No wonder you insisted we shower first. Didn’t want gym sweat on your silk sheets.”
“There’ll be plenty of sweat on them, soon.”
Her smile welcomed him. She opened her arms to draw him in. He went down on top of her and they kissed, gently at first, then increased to wet, succulent passion. Her mouth opened and his tongue entered, dueling with hers. His belly tingled. His length quivered. He kept kissing her until he almost came. He slid his lips to her face, neck, down to her breasts, uttering soft grunts, while she, gasps and moans.
He shifted his body onto his side, cupped her left breast, and brought his mouth down to suckle her. She moaned in contentment. He’d read her right. His tongue whirled around her boob. “Warming up yet?”
“Oh God. Yes.” She let out gasps of contentment, purrs, her right arm resting on his left shoulder.
They turned onto their sides facing each other. Their legs interlocked. The warmth of her taut, silken legs flush against him excited him. He loved the touch of her skin against every part of him. His hand caressed her hip, then brought it around her, and settled it on her bottom. He ran his hand over each smooth, firm cheek, squeezed, and patted her. No more than love pats. He wasn’t planning to go harder than love pats. He had certainly gotten warm. She had to have also. He kissed her neck and his fingers lingered in the small of her back. She moaned and squirmed. He had found another one of her sensitive spots. Tonight, he planned to explore every inch of her. He would know what his princess wanted and desired. Her breathing deepened, as did his. She was relaxed and open for him.
He leaned her back on the bed, extended his left arm, and pulled open the drawer to the night table. He tossed three packets of condoms onto the table, inhaling deeply to absorb the warmth of her breasts on his chest. Oh, man, did he relish every part of her.
Her eyes opened wide.
“Hey, I told you. No one will be here till six a.m. Oh, man, do you feel good under me.”
“And you feel so good on top of me.” Her arms slipped underneath his and she wrapped her arms around him, as much as she could. Her hands couldn’t meet. The warmth of her hands sent intense heat through his back, up and down his torso.
He put his head down next to hers. He was so relaxed he could have fallen asleep. But that wouldn’t fly. He needed to switch things up a bit. He rolled over and pulled her on top of him.
She went willingly.
Okay, she likes being in control, too. He’d go along with her, for a while.
She straddled him and positioned her sex over his hard length. She arched her back, her palms on the bed, sliding up and down, and moaned, her decibel increasing as her wet folds caressed him. She slid high, making sure she teased his tip, massaging her clit in circular motions against it. She screamed out in ecstasy He felt her swell. He leaned back and moaned with hitched breath. Intense energy began to hit him. Not yet. Too soon.
He lifted her off him and plopped her down on the bed. “Not so fast, princess.”
“Frank, you’re killing me. You know that?” she panted.
“I don’t rush. And you need to calm down and relax.” He kissed her as he placed his left hand over her heart. “Everything you do, you rush. Want it. You try to get it. You need to relax during sex.”
“I am relaxed. Don’t go clinical on me.”
“I don’t think so. Just go with me, okay?”
“Are you always going to be so gentle and slow?” she whined, caressing his cheek with her palm.
He laughed. “Until we get to know each other sexually. Yeah. And I never did like wham-bam-thank-you-mam-roll-over-and-snore.”
She burst out laughing. “Oh, my God! Okay, King Khaos I’ll go with you. As long as you put it like that.”
“No more talking.” He shut her up with his lips on hers.
***
Sam hungered for him. Her body was scorched, her sex awakened from his mere touch. From her mere thinking about him. She felt her center, wet, almost dripping out of her, as she tingled all over her body. Pre
ssure was building. Now she had him and wanted him inside of her. She didn’t know how much longer she could wait.
Take control of me, Tattooman.
Her longing eyes must have conveyed the message.
He grabbed her, pulling her up close to him. His hands cascaded down her back as he kissed her neck. She arched her back, protruding her breasts into his chest. He followed the lead and sucked on her pink nipples, alerting them. His tongue swirled the pink flesh around them, making her skin pebble. She quivered. As rippling sensations ran through her, she purred. He pushed her back onto the bed then lowered his lips from her breasts down to her navel.
He pecked her, right above her thatch and toyed with her curly hair between his fingers.
She jolted at the twinge, let out a low gasp, and spread her legs for him. His lips pecked her clit. Then, with his the tip of his tongue, he tickled her. He teased.
Damn him!
She took control, touching his warm head, pushing him down. His tongue, flattened, encircled her mound. She wanted more. The carnal pressure wanted to burst. She screamed out, loud, long, moans. “Consume me,” she begged.
He knew exactly what she wanted. He repositioned her on the bed, so she laid across it, parallel to the headboard. Her upper body fell back off the bed and her arms dangled above her head, opening her body to the energy. He held onto her hips as he submerged his head between her thighs, kissing her inner, upper thigh, right outside her womanhood. She widened her legs more and held them high as he moved to suckle her swollen mound and let his tongue slide down to enter her canal. His teeth and tongue took turns on her folds, bringing her to ecstasy. His teeth pinched, his tongue soothed. Her juices flowed.
“Oh God, Frank,” she screamed out in complete abandon.
It didn’t take long for the waves of climax to ride through her. Her body writhed, from her toes up to her head. She quivered on the bed, drenched. Damn! She had wanted it to take longer. For him to have to spend more time.
Her breathing hadn’t even calmed down before he slid her full body onto the bed. He wasn’t done with her. Her body was riddled with excitement. He was taking control and she loved it.
He kissed her and her own scent filled her nostrils. He paused to put on a condom. Again, he held her at her hips. Her legs spread high and wide for him. He guided his shaft into her wetness. She still hadn’t stopped quivering from the waves that had penetrated her just a minute or so ago and her sex was still sensitive. He thrust in, gently at first, then with more intensity as the as the pressure mounted. She moved her hips in sync with his rhythm, up and down. He slowed. She wanted it faster, harder. She emitted a loud moan. “Ahhhhh.”
He was panting. He teased, but gave in. She felt the thrilling tingling on her mound as his shaft rubbed the walls of her entrance. She was feeling his heat. He had to have felt hers. Their temperatures soared, their bodies wet and shimmering from sweat.
Faster. He thrust faster. His thrusts pulsated on her clit as the top of his groin met with her pelvis. He grunted louder as he came closer to his own apex. Her climax shot through her, a combination of nub and canal frenzy. The strongest kind for her. She panted, breathless, as he came after her. He moaned, collapsing on top of her.
Oh my God. He certainly knew how to please a woman. He certainly knew how to please her.
She knew right at that moment she must have more of him. She needed him in her life.
He pulled out and remained glued to her. His sweat blended with hers, becoming one.
They had become one, in spirit and lust.
She wrapped her arms around his neck. “That was so wonderful, Frank.”
“Yeah, it was. Wasn’t it?”
They kissed with passion and appreciation for each other. His kisses told her he felt the same way about her. She hadn’t been this content or pleasured from any other man in her life.
He kissed her nose then shifted onto his side with his left arm over her stomach.
She looked up, noticing the mirrored ceiling for the first time. She blinked the sweat out of her eyes. “What made you construct this room?”
He exhaled, falling onto his back, his breathing still hard. “After Jen’s death, I knew I couldn’t remain celibate. And I vowed, I’d never bring another woman into our bed until after her murderer was found, and unless it was the woman I planned to marry. So I created my secret place. No one knows about it except me and you.”
“So you’ve been celibate for two years?”
“Hell, no. The women I’ve hooked up with had their own place. Short-lived relationships. Very short lived. Like no more than twice.”
“Never met a woman you wanted a longer relationship with?”
“Another vow. I will not have a relationship with any woman, a permanent relationship, until Jen’s killers are found. I wouldn’t be able to put another woman in danger and live with myself.”
“Well, then. Let’s find Jen’s killers.”
“Glad you said that, princess. I want you and Frankie to meet.”
CHAPTER 30
Jesus packed with urgency. One duffle bag. That’s all he’d allow himself. He pulled two black hooded sweat shirts and two pairs of black sweat pants from a small chipped mini-chest in the corner, adding some underwear, socks. His wardrobe was set. Then his laptop and cords.
Better grab those forged credit cards.
They were truly a work of art. Even duplicated the signature bar and security code on the back. After he took care of business, he’d be skipping the country. For a brief moment he considered that he was glad he didn’t have any baggage. At thirty-five, no kids. No nagging old lady. No ifs about that. He had plenty of room left in the duffle, mainly for his weapons, ammo, and cash. Lots of cash. A hundred grand in small denomination bills.
He hadn’t seen Emma Sander’s murder in the paper. Guess they were keeping it under the radar, not wanting to alert the other two. He’d be spending a lot of time in Brooklyn the next few days. After he offed Rachel and Meredith, that detective would get hers. He’d have to do those two quick but he’d take his time with Samantha Wright. He knew Leonardo would want her done slow, deep, and painful. Jesus would become her worst nightmare. The worst she’d had in her life. Killing a cop would be major clout. He’d be wanted by the biggest and the best. He envisioned his future unrolling before him. Oh, yeah. He’d be in great shape in a few days. Anyone who had ever doubted him would now be by his side.
He left his apartment, scanning the block before he got in his car. Good bye, Staten Island. Hello, Brooklyn.
He came to the corner of Rachel’s block off Surf Avenue and halted. He noticed an unmarked police car parked outside the building. Black, tinted windows. He couldn’t see if there were passengers in there but his nose smelled cop. He wasn’t one for taking chances. No way. Hell, no. There could be a million reasons the cops parked outside a thirty story building. He wasn’t going to find out the hard way. He drove past and pulled into a burger place parking lot three blocks away.
He had made it a point to get chick’s numbers. Just in case he needed to get laid. Rachel was as good as any. And she was tall. He liked tall. He called her.
She answered on the third ring. “Hi, Jesus.”
That was cool. She had him in her phone book. “Hey, girl. How are ya?”
She didn’t pause. “I’m doing great! How are you?”
Was she dumb or what? Nah. She just wasn’t telling him the truth. She didn’t know a hit was put on her. And didn’t know Adam had given him the low down. That’s for sure. “Where are ya?”
She sighed. “We got some cop trouble. Uh. The usual. Can’t go back to my apartment.”
“So where are ya? Want to get together for a bite to eat? Maybe I could help you out?”
“That would be cool. I could use some way to go. Where?”
“Are you in Brooklyn?”
“Yeah.”
“Wanna meet me?”
“Where?” She sounded nervous.
“Okay. Later.” She hung up.
Jesus sat thinking about the conversation. She was certainly jittery. He was thinking how he’d do it. Ah, he’d figure it out as he went.
It was as if he’d gotten hit over the head with a brick. All of a sudden, it came to him. He couldn’t do Rachel or Meredith. Police would be after them, following them, leading them to him. And she knew that.
What the fuck was he thinking? He had gotten away with one murder but there was no way he get away from the cops if he did this. He already spent five years of his life behind bars. And he wasn’t planning on going back.
Did the cops say they’d give her a deal if she’d lead them to me? What the fuck? That’s it. That bitch is setting me up. Rachel knew Arie was in the hospital.
He bet she knew everything.
“Hold on, Jesus,” he said aloud. “You don’t know that. Adam hasn’t told the cops anything. Just nail them. The suppliers just said nail them. I got paid twice for the same three women. How hard can it be to hit these two? I did Emma like a snap. I expect the same with the other two.”
It was eleven a.m. Wednesday morning, cold. Snow was predicted. No one would be in the park at this hour. People would be at work. She’d pull into a spot. Even if there were cars there, no one would be in them. If he spotted a tail, he’d pull out like he had just come from a jog. His black tinted windows would conceal him.
Okay, Jesus. You can do this.
The drive to the park took fifteen minutes. He made sure he wasn’t tailed. He did his usual thing. Made every right turn for four blocks, then every left, for four. Even if it took him a mile out of the way. One thing great about Brooklyn that was different from other boroughs was that he could drive around in a square and, on the fourth turn, wind up where he started. He nodded. He liked that. If a car followed his exact turns, he’d know he had a tail.
He didn’t. He relaxed. The cops probably hadn’t IDd him yet. The studio apartment he lived in wasn’t listed under his name. For all purposes, Jesus Parvos’s apartment was in Yonkers. Let the cops knock themselves out looking for him. They’d never find his Staten Island digs. He had been good at hiding for the past four years once his probation had ended.
