by T. L Smith
“Remove your boots, Dunk,” I tell him facing the computer screen. He does so and huffs then runs his hands through his buzz cut. I look up to him letting him know he can talk and he does.
“I need my next shipment early, Zeke,” he says in a stern voice.
“I told you, it would be ready in two weeks,” I reply, getting angry because he expects it sooner.
“I know, but it’s in demand. And it’s in high demand,” he huffs out at me.
“Tell your people to fucking wait. When I give you a date, it stays that date. I don’t change it for no one.”
“Fuck,” he says grabbing his chin pulling at his small beard, which is also blond.
“I don’t fuck around, Dunk, I give you a date and I always deliver. Don’t piss me off, you won’t like it,” I tell him sitting back in my chair picking up the now stone-cold coffee Bexley brought in earlier.
“You mean like one of the men that tried to sell under your nose and then you killed him?” he asks, laughing while sitting back in his chair.
“They know not to mess with my business because it will get them killed,” I say simply.
“Yeah, well, that’s why I’m here, no one can get me what I want. I was hoping for some leeway as I’m one of your long-time friends,” he says.
“You’re deluded if you think we’re friends; I don’t have them.”
“Why not? You’re such an approachable kind of fella?” he says laughing, making fun of me.
“You will wait until it’s ready. I won’t rush my people ‘cause your druggies want protection from someone they’ve probably screwed over,” I say, knowing he wants my guns. A vast shipment of them, which is due in two weeks. I’m the only person to supply such enormous shipments, if anyone else tries to do so, I’ll have them killed. The east coast is mine, and mine alone.
“You attending Yossi’s tonight?” he asks as he stands and prepares to leave. I nod my head and turn back to my computer, dismissing him. Yossi’s is a bar, well, a nightclub. I go there to talk business. Most of my big clients present there when they like to talk their business over.
It’s late by the time I finish up in the office. Cora has left for the day and Bexley hasn’t come back. Which I’m relieved ‘cause I see the way she looks at me when I go out late at night. She doesn’t say anything, but I know she wants to.
It’s packed when I arrive and enter the club, a few girls notice me and try to accidently brush themselves against me. The whores.
I spot Quinton in one of the private booths and make my way over to him. He’s the man in charge of the drug side of my business. Most don’t realize it’s mine as well. And I prefer to keep it that way.
As I reach him, he hands me a scotch and I sit down, he turns back to watching out onto the dance floor. I notice him and all his friends are smiling and pointing at someone. I follow their gaze and see two girls shaking their hips in tiny dresses. I appreciate their bodies as I watch as well. Quinton notices and nudges me.
“I will be in one of them, or maybe both by the end of the night,” he says to me. He’s probably right, he’s an attractive man and women never say no to him. He’s tall, probably taller than my six-foot-three and is a fitness junky.
He stands and winks at me as he makes his way over to the two women. I turn my head away and refill my drink. When I look back up, he’s between the women, his hands on both their hips working his charm. Silly fucking women, if only they knew how fucked he was they wouldn’t go near him. He turns to me and nods, guiding the two girls to where we’re seated and sits down with them. Nodding to the brunette to come to me, she climbs on my lap and sits across it. I look her up and down and appreciate her looks though she isn’t making my cock hard. So for that reason I remove her to the empty seat next to me. Just when I look up, I notice eyes on me. They are deep and hurt. Bexley is standing near the bar with her friend watching me.
I don’t go to her and try to tell that it was nothing because there’s no need for that. She notices that I don’t move and swings her head around when Ember speaks to her and takes the drink from her hand. One thing I like about Bexley is that she doesn’t drink much, always in moderation. She never lets her ambitions go, and just let’s loose. She’s too reserved for that.
She chugs the first drink, and Ember gives her two more. Ember smiles wide at her and hands her a mixed spirit and that’s all I need to see. I turn my head back and look at Quinton to see him sucking face with both girls now. I don’t plan to stay long, but just as I think it’s time to leave I see Bexley on the dance floor.
Time is too slow for those who wait, too swift for those who fear, too long for those who grieve, too short for those who rejoice, but for those who love, time is eternity.
~Henry Van Dyke~
I can tell by the way her body is moving that she’s drunk. She can hardly stand and is leaning on anyone in her vicinity. She tries swaying to the music, but she can’t dance. Ember grabs hold of her and sways her hips with a hand on each hip. Bexley throws her hands in the air and throws her head back keeping her eyes closed. She can’t dance, but the look on her face is relaxed and she’s in a state of pleasure. I’ve been sitting here not talking or moving, watching her for the last few hours. She’s had more to drink and is hardly standing now. She yells something in Ember’s ear and waves to her as she makes her way to the front of the club.
I stand and follow, having no idea why. I watch her as she trips and lands on the cement in front of a cab laughing at herself, before she pulls herself up and opens the cab door climbing in. I watch, not doing a thing and turn to walk to my car to follow her home.
Upon arrival at home, the front door is left wide open and the clothing she was wearing is basically in a line all the way to our bedroom. I don’t see her in bed, but I hear the shower turn off. Staying where I can watch her, she flings the door open walking out with a just a towel around her and she spots me with from the light coming from the bathroom. She looks at me and shrugs her shoulders then climbs into bed with just the towel, not bothering to take it off.
“You drank tonight?” I ask, removing my own clothes and intending to climb in next to her and fuck her.
“Yep,” she says, not giving me more than that. I pull the blanket back and she sits up to pull it back over herself.
“Why?” I ask, having no idea why I’m asking her this question.
“‘Cause I needed you out of my head,” she says turning away from me.
“Why, Bexley?” I ask her again, she sighs and doesn't look back to answer me.
“Because you’re always in there, making me love you, and I don’t want to tonight,” she says barely in a whisper.
“Did it work?” I say climbing in next to her, my hand goes straight to her ass.
“Nope, I don’t think anything will.”
“Good,” I say and turn her around to face me.
“It’s not good,” she mumbles not meeting my eyes.
“Why isn’t it good, Bexley?” I ask her, pulling the towel away from her.
“I don’t want to love you,” she says almost inaudibly. If I had a heart I’d tell her, it’s okay, I’m here for you. But I don’t and I’m an asshole.
“Then don’t,” I say and look down at her breasts, her nipples are hard, waiting and wanting for me to touch them. I hear her intake of breath when I place my lips over her pink nipple, and lick then bite it hard enough to leave a mark. She arches up for me. I remove her perfect breast from my mouth and watch as she takes me in. I’m basically straddling her naked, my cock hard as a fucking rock sitting on her belly. Her eyes turn to lust when she eye fucks me, and she seems to forget the conversation we were having as she sits up and pushes me to the side, so I’m off her. I let her, and watch as she sits up and climbs over me to straddle my thighs.
“You want me, don’t you,” she says in a voice I’ve never heard before. I look down at my hard cock and give her a smirk. She’s so fucking sexy right now; she looks flushed, with
her wet hair from the shower. Nipples poking out waiting and wanting for me to touch and lick.
She grabs my cock and strokes it with her hands, with a sinful smirk on her face. “It only wants me, doesn’t it?” she asks to my cock or me? I’m not sure.
“Answer me, Zeke? Am I the only one you fuck?” She squeezes harder and fuck it’s hot. She stops when I don’t answer her. I don’t want to answer, I’m already breaking her as it is. I sit up and she falls backwards. She’s now lying between my legs. Her legs and shaven pussy right on my face. I lick my fingers and place them on her clit, she moans and it’s the best fucking sound in the world. I do the same again; lick, touch, repeat, applying pressure, and then removing. She sighs every time my hands leave her. By the fourth time, she’s getting angry. She sits up and pushes me back down, I let her. She climbs up me and positions herself over me, cock in her hand and she slowly goes to sink down. Then stops, just as my tip is in her warm cunt. She then lifts up and removes me completely. I look at her and see a devilish smile on her face as she does it again.
“I can play games too, Zeke,” she says, but when she returns to do it again this time I take over and slam her hips straight down. She throws her head back and screams in pleasure, as I sit up and look at her. Her eyes close, her lips part. Fuck! She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
“I’m the master of games, don’t fuck with me,” I say and move her hips to the rhythm I so desperately need.
She ends up taking control and starts moving up and down my cock fast. I watch her face when she’s near coming. I grab her ass and squeeze, then slap it hard as she leans down to me. I take her nipple in my mouth while she keeps on riding, soon she’s screaming and collapsing on top of me. I lift her up and place her on her stomach on the bed, grabbing her hips and lifting them up high enough to sink my cock back into her. She’s limp, but once she feels me, she starts moving knowing I’m so close and wanting to give her pleasure as well. I reach down and play with her clit; she starts squeezing my cock hard. Her screams grow louder and I pound into her, finding my own release.
She falls back to her stomach, and I lay down next to her.
She turns to face me and her face is stoic. “I don’t know how much longer I can do this,” she says, and before I can tell her anything she closes her eyes and a soft snore escapes her beautiful mouth. Maybe I’m a selfish asshole for holding her love captive. But a part of me doesn’t want to let it go, another part doesn’t give a flying fuck either way.
Bitterness imprisons life; love releases it.
~Harry Emerson Fosdick~
My head hurts when I wake up. It hurts so bad I can’t even open my eyes. But I have to; I have to somehow make it to the bathroom. I stand on shaky legs and remember all of a sudden why they’re shaking. Then I remember the conversation. Well, my conversation and his no words conversation. I manage to pull my eyes open and turn to see him still asleep. No man should be as beautiful as he is. Fuck! Now I want to cut him from my memory, the memory of a girl on his lap, rubbing her large breasts over him and him not even caring.
I often wonder if there’s something wrong with me that’s making me stay with someone like him. It can’t just be the sex, even though that’s the best and only thing in our relationship right now. In the beginning he was cold, then possessive, then maybe just a tiny bit caring. And I thought I had won the lottery, and that I got to see a piece of this man that no other does. But maybe it was a mask to trap me, to make me love him because I do. Fuck, I do, with every bone and blood cell in my body. I used to think it was lust, well, that or sex love. If there’s even such a thing, but I hate going a day without seeing him, and I hate not talking to him. I love his presence, even if he’s asleep next to me. Everything in me loves something about him, but my head, my head knows it shouldn’t. Maybe my head should tell my heart?
I walk away, go to the bathroom and then turn on the shower. Once I step into the hot water it makes me feel a little bit better. I stay in there longer than expected, and the next thing I know I jump when a hand touches me. I turn to see him behind me, looking at me. I manage to look straight into his eyes, and I know he wants me. But right now, I don’t want him, I don’t want the heartless sex. Right now, I need alone time, alone without him, for the first time in a very long time.
I step from the shower and he watches me but doesn’t say anything. One day I’d like him to tell me to stay. To not leave him as I know he needs me right now, but I guess that will never happen if it hasn’t by now.
He isn’t far behind me. I’ve managed to get dressed in yoga pants and one of his workout shirts and I climb back in bed and watch as he walks around not looking, not saying anything to me. Sometimes he does. Sometimes he makes me happy beyond belief. Even if it’s small, he tries.
“Do you want breakfast?” he asks. He’s at the door ready to leave to start his day. I shake my head no and turn away from him. I hear him sigh and walk out. I try not to think too much about our fucked up relationship. But it’s the only thing my mind does. I’ve changed my life for him, quit my job, and moved in with him. I often wonder if I was dumb and naive to do such a thing. My days are filled with nothingness and I need to change that. Maybe tomorrow is the last thing I think about before I pass out.
I wake to Zeke’s hand running up my back and turn slightly in the bed. He looks pained though I’m not sure why. I pull him to me; I think it’s just a natural thing to do when someone looks upset. He comes and his head lies on my shoulder, we stay like this with his hand rubbing up my sides and comforting both of us. He lifts his head and places a soft kiss on my lips, and I want more. I deepen the kiss and grab hold of him tighter. He obliges his hands start running all over me. I shiver. I love the feel of him.
“Zeke,” Cora’s voice comes from the door. I let go and drop my head back onto the bed and sigh very loudly. Zeke lifts his head and looks to Cora with a look that would make you run, then he turns back and kisses my lips before he gets up to leave. He adjusts himself and I watch as he does, and notice that Cora is still watching. Huh, suck that bitch! They both walk out the door and Zeke stops and turns back to look at me.
“I need you dressed. I have a meeting and want you to attend with me.” I’m sure my face registers a shock expression because I never go anywhere with him for his work. I don’t even know all his businesses though I’m fairly sure I don’t want to either.
****
I’m dressed in jeans, shirt and heels, and as we drive I’m wondering where we’re going when we stop at a house in the hills. It’s very secure and we have to go through multiple gates to get to the main house. As the car comes to a stop, we step out and I see men in suits. I look down at my outfit and back to Zeke in his suit.
“Is what I’m wearing okay?” I ask as I walk to the front of the car. He looks me up and down and takes my hand in his and gives it a squeeze.
“You’re perfect,” he says and starts walking toward the entrance. Opening the door with a key, I give him a puzzled look. Hearing loud voices as we enter, I take a look around. The house is massive and an open plan. The floors are covered in pristine white tiles and the furniture seems to match, all in white. I would hate to see kids in this place.
“Whose house is this?” I ask still looking around.
“My parents,” he simply says and I stop, pulling him up in his tracks as I have a hold on his hand.
“Tell me you’re joking,” I say, dropping his hand from mine, trying to calm my breathing. Fuck, why would he bring me here?
“I’m here for business, Bexley, some of my associates are here. And my father runs a restaurant I own.”
“Yes, but…it’s your…parents,” I stumble the words out. He smiles, and it makes me smile. It’s not something I get to see often, so when he does it makes my heart happy. I think he smiled on purpose, to distract me. ‘Cause the next thing I know, we’re in the living area filled with people, and I know none of them.
“Zeke.” An older
lady comes over and kisses his cheek and smiles down at me, but it’s a tight smile. Definitely not a happy one, more forced. “And who’s this?” she asks looking me up and down, still assessing me with her old eyes.
“Mother, this is Bexley. Bexley, this is Elizabeth, my mother.” I smile at her and grab Zeke’s hand and squeeze hard. He smirks and walks me away. He knows when I’m uncomfortable. Thank God he doesn’t seem to care, I mean it’s his mother of all people.
“Quinton, Alex aka Dad, this is, Bexley,” he says pointing to the other two men and they give me a broad smile. Quinton is quite attractive, the same build as Zeke, maybe a bit bigger and has a playboy persona about him. He doesn’t interest me, there’s something about him that screams bad. Alex looks a lot like Zeke, same facial features, same eyes, and same build. I can see where he gets his looks. Alex’s hair is cut short, different to Zeke’s, but they have so many similarities it’s not hard to tell it’s his father.
Quinton has a girl at his side and she looks like she’s high. She smiles at me, or what I think is a smile, but her eyes land on Zeke. Her smile turns sultry when she locks eyes with him, and she stands to walk over to us. She stops right in front of him and runs her hand up his chest while I’m standing there holding his hand. The cheek of this bitch! I grab her hand and fling it away. Her smile turns sour and her eyes turn to me.
“Don’t touch me,” she sneers.
“Don’t touch what you can’t have,” I say quietly knowing I’m in view of Zeke’s family.
