by Dani Wyatt
If I don’t feel it, it’s not my jam. And the truth is I haven’t felt anything in the below the belt department for so long, I’m not even sure my damn equipment still works in a real life scenario. Maybe I’ll find out someday, but until that right girl hits me in all the right places, I’m a workaholic who doesn’t want an intervention.
“Not a fucking chance.” Christopher shakes his head with a crooked smile. The scar on his cheek pulling his eyes a bit crooked. “I like being on the ground. The early mornings. The customers. The routine. It’s my home, bro.”
Christopher has a good nest egg going I’m sure. Like me, he’s not an extravagant spender. Oh, don’t get me wrong. I like my suits and my bike but I don’t spend like I could. I prefer a few bank accounts with plenty of zeros showing.
I’m sure neither of us ever thought we’d be part of the upper crust as we used to call it. The right side of the tracks I guess.
Christopher could come up to corporate, sit in an office, buy a nice place in a suburb, find him a gorgeous wife, suit out his life with a dog and 2.5 kids. But like me, this crazy ass donut business got under his skin. It’s just part of who we are right now.
The bells on the shop’s front door jingle as I nod at my friend in agreement.
I get it, it’s the customers, the routine, early mornings and the smell of donuts baking. That’s what it’s all about. Out at the front retail area Angela greets whomever just walked in with a familiar, “Good morning, what can I get you?” She sounds happy, which is just the way I like it. Treat the staff well and it pays dividends.
Literal dividends in my case.
I clap my hands in front of me, then rub them together before speaking. “Alright, bro. I’m going to go check out the front. Watch Angela work her charm. You tell everyone it’s lunch on me today. If you guys want to go out, I’ll cover the store. Or I’ll bring in whatever you want.”
I look down at my watch. Then pull the cuffs of my shirt so the white shows evenly under the dark grey of my suit sleeve then turn to step toward the front.
“Yes, boss. Er, hold on, wait, there’s something else.” The lightness in Christopher’s voice turns to hesitation. “I got something else you need to know.”
Christopher is no drama queen, so I know whatever is about to be said will not be fucking rainbows and unicorns. I lick my lips and pause at the swinging door that separates the back room from the sales area. He’s rubbing and squeezing his temples, not meeting my eyes.
“I got a call yesterday.” Christopher drops his hand from his temples to grip at the goatee that covers his chin. “Saul, man. He called. Again. Showed up last night. Again.”
Fuck me. I was having a fucking good day.
“Jesus. What the fuck did he want?”
“He wants to work. Hey, that’s what he said, man, I’m just passing on the message.” Christopher shakes his head.
My shirt collar is pinching the back of my neck when I throw my head back. Fuck. I let out a breath to relieve the pressure that’s building inside my head as Christopher continues. “He said he’s straight, and that you told him once if he got his ass straight you’d give him a shot.”
“Yeah, that was before he took two more rides for breaking parole. He’s not straight. I’ll tell you right now, he’s still down on Cass, shuffling whatever he can to get his fix.”
“I don’t doubt you, boss. But he just said you promised and I’m just delivering the message. You’ve helped out brothers before, so it’s not for me to decide.” Christopher throws his hands up and shrugs.
I take a breath and close my eyes. Funny how Saul’s name turned my mood from sweet to sour. He and I were cellmates for a good two years in the fine accommodations at Jackson during my stint. Sharing a small space like that, you get to see the light in people despite all the darkness. So when I got out and made good, I made sure to do what I could to help others like me.
See, the thing about being a felon...you do your time, you get out, you’ve got that big fucking F that comes up on your background check and no one’s going to hire you. So I do what I can when I can for brothers like me. But I’m also not putting my own ass and my whole business on the line for someone who can’t show me they’re ready for something new.
Now, Saul—and I can forgive a lot—but he has two downs for sexual assault with a minor. He says he thought the girl was eighteen, and it was a long fucking time ago, yadda-yadda-yadda, but still. Some shit’s difficult to forgive, and he never denied the rest.
I know people can change, and even with that black mark against him I’d give him another chance. Really I would. That’s why I told him what I told him. If he changed, then okay. But he hasn’t.
“If he calls again, tell him I’ll be in touch. I won’t leave him hanging, man. But he’s not ready. Trust me. But I’ll tell him myself. It’s not your job.”
“No, I’ll do it. I’ve got your back. If he comes around or calls, I’ll tell him it’s not his time.”
I nod and drop my arms, hands in my suit pockets. “Thanks, man.”
“Sure.”
For a split second I think about Black and my final gun delivery. Never heard from him again which, considering when it came out the guy that died that day was Black’s son not just an innocent bystander I figured maybe he had an epiphany too and took himself off the grid.
My ass took a plea deal for my involvement in the death of the female that day and I never looked back. I may have been a dumbass, but I just wanted it over. Stuck my head in the sand, didn’t even let my public defender tell me anything about the case. Just negotiated my deal and I took the ride to Jackson. The only other thing I heard, was that Black wasn’t even all that upset about his own son going down. Just confirmed that that guy was heartless. Even when it came to his own family.
Forcing a smile onto my face, I head out into the retail area. Out here it’s all bright lights, walls painted in our signature green and mocha stripes. I look up just as Angela is handing two large boxes of donuts to a customer who is blocked by the easel holding our daily specials chalkboard.
As I move forward, I catch sight of the woman and her wave of goodbye as she’s turning away, moving toward the door.
Did anyone else feel the fucking earth shift under their feet?
Her fucking eyes are like nothing I’ve ever seen. Maybe green, but not green. A color that doesn’t have a name. Jade that flickers with glittering gold flecks. Cheeks that are the smoothest olive but peppered with freckles I want to count with kisses. A deep pink in the background of her exotic skin hints at a blushing innocence. She’s a Rubenesque masterpiece with hair that rolls in dark chocolate waves to just above her waist.
I’ve never seen anything like her. A swirl of light and dark. Sweet and sensual. And for the first time in my life, I know what it truly feels like to want a woman.
It’s been one second? Maybe two? But it’s enough for me to have a hard-on the size of California. My heart is palpitating, beating an uneven rhythm that steals my breath.
She reaches the door in slow motion, turns and pushes her sweet apple ass against it to shove it open.
Lucky fucking door.
A smile crests her puffy lips and I think of her opening them for me. Sticking out her tongue with a lusty twinkle in her eye as I guide my dripping cock forward, ready for her to lick it clean, her gleaming strands of onyx hair cascading over her shoulders, swishing as she nods up at me and whispers my name. Thorne.
I nearly shut my eyes thinking I could die fairly fucking happy right there, content that I was able to share the same space with her for even a moment. Then she speaks, and her words are so sweet I start to feel bad about my deviant thoughts.
“Thank you so much. I gotta run, hop on the next bus to the clinic.” She nods toward Angela. “I’ll be back on my way home for my Friday night treat. Payday!” She trips a little as her eyes meet mine for split second. She’s unsteady and I hope like hell it’s because she’s feeling the same thing I am right now.
Those magical green eyes shift away from my face, I see her blink a few times then the come back to me, one more fraction of a second but I see the pink in her cheeks spread and darken.
The music of her voice turns on some damn twinkling lights inside my head. It’s like fucking Christmas in there and I have to shake it away just to gather some control.
“Bye, CeeCee.” Angela smiles as she puts the cash in the register and gives her a friendly salute. “Don’t let Doctor Shit-son get you down. He’s an asshole.”
I want to know whomever this ‘Doc’ is that might have the power to get her down. Because this girl doesn’t deserve to have a moment in her life that isn’t filled with smiles and laughter. Suddenly I want to break the guy’s neck, and I’ve never even met him.
Then it’s her soft laughter that has me ready to nut right here in my pants. The twinkling lights that filled my brain are gone, replaced by starved need. A consuming lust shakes loose inside me in that single moment, sending images of her innocent, succulent curves laid out before me while I tear into her soft flesh like some sort of beast. Driving her further into the bed with every thrust.
The bells over the front door jingle again and I’m shaken from my x-rated fantasies as the door closes behind her. She’s rushing now in the wrong direction because it’s away from me. There’s a hole in my chest. An emptiness that needs filling like I’ve never felt before.
The loneliness that has been a comforting companion to me for so long is replaced by a constriction in my chest.
It takes a Herculean effort not to chase her sweet, ripe ass down. Exquisite thoughts of how the flesh of her thighs would feel in my grip spin in my head and my mouth waters thinking of how she must taste. The thought of opening her up and dining on what would be the finest meal ever to grace my lips has my cock dripping.
I’ve not touched a woman since before I went into prison. Something died in me somewhere between then and now, and until this second I think I just accepted that it would always be dead. At thirty-one years old, I’m comfortable that more than likely I’ll die never touching a woman again.
Until today, and whatever I thought was dead inside me, well, looks like it was just sleeping. Deep sleep, but it’s wide fucking awake now and hungry as hell.
“Who was that?” I’m squared off at the register with Angela in a second, arms crossed over my chest, my brow tight but my eyes are stuck on where that dark-haired cherub just disappeared from view outside the front store windows.
“That?”
I’m not even looking at Angela. I’m too busy thinking about her, the little bird in the pink jeans. Fuck, I’m hard as an iron rod. I start moving to the other side of the counter so Angela won’t see the monster that’s sprung to life inside my pants, that’s already weeping for a taste of whatever that was that just blew through here. Just blew through me.
“CeeCee’s her name, she’s a regular. Buys donuts for the clinic where she works and stops by every Friday on her way home to buy two just for herself. Friday’s her payday. She’s cute. She says your damn donuts are the best Friday night date she’s ever had. She’s sweet.”
“You shouldn’t swear so much.” It’s all I can manage because my brain is shutting down. My inner Neanderthal is focused on throwing her down and thrusting into her, my hand around her throat, grunting about who she belongs to now.
“Boss.” Angela drags out the word as her eyes twinkle with realization. It must be painfully obvious something is alight. “She’s cute, huh?” She bobs her eyebrows and stifles a giggle.
“It’s not that.” I clear my throat, trying to get my dignity back. Angela’s been with us here since the beginning, so she knows me well enough to decode my sudden, out-of-character interest in a customer.
“In all the years I’ve known you, I’ve never seen you look at a girl or anything. Truth, I thought maybe you played for the other team.”
I frown as she throws a playful right hook into my gut.
“Okay, look, just mind your own business.” I swat away her second fist thrust, but can’t help grinning.
I’m not this friendly with most of the workers at the stores, but these folks here are my family. We came up together, struggled together, made some damn horrible donuts together in the beginning and these folks stuck with me during the hard times before the business took off like a rocket. So Angela gets a free pass. But right now, I need details.
“So she comes in every Friday after work? Every Friday?”
Angela takes a second to answer and I seriously start to consider fucking waterboarding her if she doesn’t hurry the fuck up with my answer.
“Yeah. Pretty much like clockwork. She takes a bus from where she works to here, then catches the next one to wherever she lives... so she runs in around 5:05 or 5:10 between the two routes. She looks at what we’ve got, chooses, then she’s off.”
“Why haven’t I seen her before?”
I’m at the front windows, pretending I’m inspecting the displays, but really I’m just trying to grab one last glimpse of those pink jeans, watch her sway in that way that has my balls tight and heavy with what I want to put inside her.
There’s a low buzz filling my chest. A tingling in my fingers.
Thousands of filthy thoughts are playing fast and furious around in my head. I want to know everything about her.
“Uh huh. And you haven’t seen her before because you’re always gone by five. You’re a creature of habit, boss.”
The fabric of my dress shirt tightens across my chest as I draw in a slow, deep breath and hold it, letting this moment sink in. My world has just changed, I can feel it. Something crackles to life in the air and in some deep part of myself that until now has lain dormant.
Letting out the breath as it burns in my lungs, I turn and see Christopher come out of the back room wiping his hands on a white towel.
Angela slips on some plastic gloves and arranges the colorful, iced donuts inside the case, humming and grinning to herself. Something about this moment feels profound. I’ve come so far. Gone through so much shit. But right this second, right now, I realize how empty I’ve been. The chasm of a hole that’s inside me.
I clear my throat then look at Christopher. “Hey, both of you, listen. Just you two working until evening shift comes in?”
Christopher nods, totally unaware of how my life just changed. “Yep. Margaret and Tracy are finishing up decorating, they’ll leave after lunch. Then Lucy will be working six ‘til close. Norman comes in at seven and helps close up and start prep for morning.”
“Great. How’d you two like a couple paid hours off today? I’ll cover.”
Christopher narrows his eyes, like I just started speaking in tongues or something. “Boss?”
“Sure.” Angela giggles and nudges Christopher in the gut.
“Good. I’ll bring in lunch at 12:30 for all of us, then you two can cut and run around four. Sound good?”
The voice inside my head grunts. My dick is throbbing, the vision of CeeCee playing over and over in my imagination, her dark hair spread under her head as she screams my name.
I’ll be waiting right here, little bird. I need to tell you who you belong to now.
LIVE NOW ON AMAZON
ANGEL
Chapter One
_______________________________________________
MAGNUS
“You are wound too fucking tight, man. When’s the last time you got laid anyway? Go find some fucking chick and just get it done!” Erik smirks at me as he spreads his fingers on the polished birch. The desk used to be mine, and it was big even for me. Erik isn’t small, not by everyday standards, but he looks like a toddler playing like he’s some big shot behind that desk.
He’s wearing a fucking idiot grin, and I have half a mind to wipe it off with a quick shot to his jaw.
What he doesn’t know is I get laid a few times a day. In my mind at least and by my own hand. I got laid a couple hours ago. Laying back in my
bed, my fist around my rock hard shaft, trying to talk myself out of jerking off for the second time before six a.m. as I thought about my angel.
I lost that battle, just as I’ve lost hundreds exactly the same over the last few months. As I gripped myself, squeezing and jacking up and down with the sheets tossed off my body, my thoughts had drifted to what her lips would taste like, the way they curve and stay full when she smiles. Thinking of that gorgeous smile as I would sink my tongue so deep inside her I become part of her fucking DNA. The image of myself placing her on her knees in front of me, her willing eyes looking to me for reassurance...
My fantasy unfolds with the first brush of her tongue on the slit of my cock, drops of pre-cum seeping out just for her. The things I would say to her. How she would smile when I told her she was my good girl... The weight of her magnificent tits in my hands.
The taste of her pussy. Her legs spreading willingly for me. Then that smile again.
Every time it happens, I imagine teaching her, guiding her, showing her everything I want her to know about sex. About how I was made to please her and her me. Making her mine in ways most men would think perverse, but it’s not. The ways I want her are beautiful. The ways I wish I could have her. Take care of her. Possess her beyond anything most rational men would understand.
My Angel.
My babygirl.
But it’s what I need. It’s what I’ve always needed, I just didn’t know it until I met her.
I would tell her to open her legs for me, order her to play with herself so I know exactly what she likes, how to reward her when she is a good girl. Fuck, I gripped my cock so tight, thinking of how her pussy would feel. My stroke sessions are more fits of lust-filled anger than pleasure. I want her so badly it hurts. I need the release because I’m sure I will never truly have her and that is my own private torture.
Pulses shoot up my cock, thick and hard simply from the memory of my morning fantasy, and I shift in the chair where I sit facing the front of the desk, hoping my brother won’t notice the hard-on that is beginning to fill the front of my pants.
