by Evelyn Glass
“Okay. You want to eat here? I have a roast in the fridge I need to cook.”
Stella thought a moment, her mouthwatering at the thought of Grammy’s roast beef with potatoes and green peas with carrots. “That sounds perfect. Thank you.”
“It’ll be ready about six.”
“I’ll be there well before that.” She smiled, now having the perfect excuse to weasel out of dinner with Tony.
As they tromped up to her apartment, she broke the news. “I called Gammy to let her know I was going to be late picking up Katrina. She invited me for dinner. Another time?”
Tony smiled, but there was a sadness there. “Sure.”
As she opened the door she felt a bit like a heel. She was using him, plain and simple, but he knew the arrangement and accepted it. She’d made it clear, several times, this was all she wanted from him, an occasional tumble to satisfy a need, and nothing more.
There was no seduction. They both knew why they were there, and they wasted no time. He followed her to her bedroom where they undressed. He watched as she stripped out of her clothes and underwear. Stella was nothing other than stunning. Average in height, her mother’s Latino heritage was clear in her dark hair and eyes, and her sun-kissed skin. She wore her hair short, just above the shoulders, and cut to frame her face. She had the typically lush figure of many Latinos, but by far her best feature were her eyes. Large and a deep, rich, brown, her eyes spoke to him.
She threw the covers into the floor with a flourish, then lay down on her side, one knee bent as she twisted her hips and propped on an elbow, her other arm draped casually across her hip. She smiled at him then curled her finger at him, calling him to her and making his cock tingle in anticipation.
He joined her on the bed and she smiled as she pulled him down into a kiss. They kissed slowly, her passions swelling and taking her. When he slowly pulled away, she pushed him back onto the bed and began to kiss down his body, working her way ever lower, teasing him with anticipation as her lips danced and caressed. Finally, she reached his manhood, and began to cover it with butterfly kisses, cooing and purring as she licked and tickled with lips and tongue.
She smiled to herself as he hissed, taking him into her mouth. He wasn’t small, but he wasn’t huge either, and she could take all of him in if she focused. She knew he liked it, and she wanted to please him, so she did this for him. He pushed his hips up, forcing himself deeper into her mouth as he held her head firmly but gently.
“Fuck, Stella,” he growled as she pulled back then plunged him deep into her mouth again.
She smiled to herself, enjoying his pants, growls and hisses as she pleased him.
“You’re going to make me come,” he warned.
She began to ease off, slowly letting him down. He was good for one shot a night, and she didn’t want to waste it. She pulled him out of her mouth one last time and moved up to kiss him slow and deep. She wanted to give him time to unwind. She’d discovered if she took him right to the edge, then let him cool, it took him longer to get wound up the next time, and when he did, he came much harder. It was a game they both enjoyed.
She put a condom on him as she kissed and stroked so he would be ready and they wouldn’t have to stop, then he began kissing down her body, pausing at her breasts, before moving lower again. She sighed as he settled between her legs and began to flick and probe with his tongue. She purred and cooed, gasped and moaned. She could take or leave his kisses down there, but she didn’t want to hurt his feelings, so when was doing something good, she let him know with a soft gasp or a low moan. She rarely came from his tender ministration, but that was okay. It served its purpose to allow him to cool his ardor while still keeping him interested.
After a time, she realized she wasn’t going to come that way tonight so she pulled him up. “Take me,” she breathed. He settled between her thighs and entered her slowly. She sighed out a breath with his passage, the feel of his hardness inside her exquisite. “Yes,” she breathed.
Tony may have not been at his best while eating a woman out, but he did know how to kiss, and she’d learned how to get the best out of him while fucking. They moved together for several long moments, his slow deep thrusts as they kissed working their magic on her.
“Harder,” she begged, feeling her orgasm stalking her. If he fucked her hard and fast now, and didn’t come too soon, she would orgasm.
He began to drive into her hard and fast, grunting in passion and effort. “Shit, baby, you feel so good,” he gasped. “I can’t hold it. I’m going to come.”
She ignored him, focusing on her own orgasm. She was close, so close, and all she needed was a little more.
He lunged into her hard and deep, holding himself there as he grunted softly. She spurred him with her heels, encouraging him to keep fucking her as she tried to hold onto her orgasm, whimpering as she squirmed, teetering on the edge of the abyss. He thrust into her hard and fast several times, paused as he gasped in pleasure, then pounded into her hard again, burying his face in her neck.
Her orgasm rippled through her, a rush of warmth and blessed relief as she held Tony’s lips to her neck.
His breath was warm and relaxing as he panted softly. “Did you come?” he asked.
“Mm-hmm,” she murmured as she nodded her head. She didn’t always come, and she knew it hurt him when she didn’t, but she always enjoyed the act and the closeness she felt, especially after she had an orgasm.
He sighed in satisfaction and flopped to the bed beside her and she curled up in his arms. She could feel herself sliding into sleep and she welcomed it, though she would have to be careful to not sleep too long. Her lips quirked into a small smile as she again dreamed of the day when someone she loved would make love to her then hold her in his arms as they drifted off to sleep. She sighed in contentment. She didn’t love Tony, but he would do until her true love came along. Still smiling, she slid softly into the dark blanket of sleep.
CHAPTER SIX
“You’re a hard person to track down,” Gabriel said as he stepped up to the bakery counter at On A Roll.
“What are you doing here?” Stella demanded.
“I came to see you. I couldn’t leave it the way we did in the diner on Friday. I’d still like a chance to talk to you. Dinner after you get off work? Just to talk. If you never want to see me again after that…” He shrugged.
“How’d you find me?”
“Started at the diner. I went by there yesterday and they told me you didn’t work Mondays, but to try here. I came here and asked about you. Found out you work Tuesday through Saturday. So, it’s Tuesday and here I am.”
She looked at him a moment. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, but I have something for you.”
“What?”
“You left a fifty on the table Sunday.”
“So?”
“Wasn’t it a mistake?”
“No.”
She stared at him a moment. “Why? You can’t buy me, Gabriel.”
“I’m not trying to buy you, Stella. I left it because I wanted to, not because I thought it would change anything. If you would just talk to me, give me a chance to explain, maybe you would understand. I know what I did was…messed up,” he said, obviously changing what he was going to say at the last moment, “but I would like a chance to explain why I did it. I don’t expect you to forgive me, but I would like you to know the reason why I left.”
She looked at him, her resolving weakening, wondering if she owed him at least that much, if for nothing but old times sake. “No,” she finally said. “That’s behind me now. What’s done is done.”
He nodded. “I understand.” He turned away and took one step before he turned back. “Just know it wasn’t you; it was me. I was trying to do the right thing, but I didn’t understand until later that I had thrown away the best thing that had ever happened to me.”
She watched over the bakery case as he turned on his toe and walked out without a backwards glance, wondering what he meant when
he said he was trying to do the right thing.
***
Royal stepped off his bike at the clubhouse. The contractor was supposed to be there already, but the only vehicle in the lot was Doc’s Dyna. “He’s not here?” Royal asked as he walked into the shell of their clubhouse.
“You see him here?” Doc asked, sitting on an upended five-gallon bucket.
“I guess he’s cheap for reason,” Royal groused.
“You ever seen a contractor, plumber, electrician, or anyone like that on time? Have a sit.”
“I don’t want to sit! I want to get this shit moving!”
Doc stared at his friend again. “What’s eating you, brother?”
“Nothing. It just pisses me off that nobody can be on time.”
Doc quirked an eyebrow at Royal. “Nothing, huh? Seems like something to me. You still got a burr up your ass about that diner chick?”
“I stopped by to see her today before I came here. I just wanted to talk to her, to explain why I did what I did.”
“Just fucking forget about her! Jesus Christ! You did what you had to. Even if you tell her, what will it change? Nothing!” Doc watched Royal a moment then softened. “Look, I think it’s great you want to come clean with her. That takes a lot of balls, and not a lot of guys would be willing to do it. But you’ve tried twice now, and she kicked you in the nuts both times, right? So it’s time to let it go.”
“Yeah, I know,” Royal replied softly. “But this is eating me from the inside and I don’t even know why. I was hoping if we could talk it out I could let it go.”
“Maybe you need to go back to Charleston until you get your head straightened out. This shit didn’t start until you got to Greenfield.”
“It’s not the where; it’s the who. When I saw her the other night in the diner, that’s when it all came back.”
“What you need to do is go out and find that witch bitch again. You need to fuck her, and keep on fucking her, until you get this out of your system. No pussy is worth this much headache.”
“Sorry I’m late,” Antonio Daniels said as he stepped into the clubhouse. “I got on the wrong interstate and had to find an exit to turn around.” Tony looked around the gutted building. “You guys have done a ton of work. The carpenters should be here any time to start putting walls up. That will be pretty fast, a couple of days, tops. The electrical, and especially the plumbing are going to be what slows us down on the rough in. You sure you want the two extra bathrooms and showers in the two existing ones? Without that, we can have the rough in work done in a couple of days.”
“Got to have them,” Doc said.
“You got it, but jackhammering out the floor to tie in with the existing plumbing is going to be a real pain in the rear.” Tony smiled. “Still, we can handle it.”
“Still think you can complete all the work in thirty days?” Royal asked.
Tony shrugged. “I don’t see why not. We’ll be working in the dry so there shouldn’t be any weather delays. You keep the money flowing, I’ll keep the guys busting ass. Once everything is roughed in, we can start the finish work. That’s what’s really going to eat up the time.”
Doc nodded. “Good enough. Make it happen, Tony, and the money will be there.”
***
Doc and Royal left to leave Tony to his work. Royal needed to clear his head. Doc was right. Stella wasn’t worth it. No pussy was. He turned north on the 276, a place he used to ride often. It was a nice stretch of road with plenty of curves, once he got out of town, to keep his mind occupied. He rode, going nowhere, while thinking.
The past four years had been the best thing to ever happen to him. He knew it had been the right decision at the time. He’d been offered a prospect patch by the Iron Kings and he’d leapt at the chance. He’d loved Stella, but he needed a way out of the spiral he was in.
He’d graduated high school but there was no money for college and his parents were useless. Constantly strung out on drugs and alcohol, unable to hold a steady job, they’d existed in abject poverty, surviving on food stamps and welfare while living in government assistance housing. He had nothing, and it seemed he would always have nothing.
He was working a minimum wage job at a car wash, the only job he’d been able to find, trying to save enough to get out. He’d finally managed to scrape together enough money to buy a bike, a ten-year-old Honda Shadow Sabre. He couldn’t afford a car, but the bike beat walking, even in the rain, and he came to love the machine for the freedom he gave him.
He’d ridden to Charleston for Low Country Hog Fest and, while there, ran into the Iron Kings. It had been an inauspicious meeting to be sure. After the show he was in a bar, nursing a beer, before riding back to Greenfield. He was getting up to leave when he backed into a man, causing him to drop his beer. He’d apologized, and offered to replace it, but the man was drunk and belligerent. He’d slapped money down on the bar for the man’s beer and tried to leave, not wanting trouble, but the man followed him out. Outside, things got out of hand and they’d locked up in the parking lot while a crowd of men and women cheered them on.
Royal had his share of fights in high school, but the man was an experienced brawler and outweighed him by fifty pounds. It was no shoving match, and whether it was because the guy was drunk, or Royal was just too stubborn to stay down, he didn’t know, but after what felt like an eternity of pain, his burly opponent had thrown in the towel.
As he staggered to his feet, his clothes torn and his face and hands bloody, one of the women watching them fight stepped out of the crowd and escorted him back inside where she and another woman cleaned him up. As she cleaned the blood off him, the woman explained the man he’d fought was a loudmouth who liked to fight. He knew better than to mess with the Kings, but he must have looked like a soft target. She smiled and kissed him gently on the lips. He smiled as he remembered her words.
“Looks like he was wrong,” she’d purred.
Once he was cleaned up, she introduced him to the Iron Kings. Several of them had been out watching him fight. They’d bought him a beer, impressed that, even though he was getting his ass handed to him at the start, he kept getting up, and had finally worn the man down and kicked his ass.
He was in no shape to ride the three hours back to Greenfield and they had offered the hospitality of their clubhouse for the night. Reluctantly he accepted their offer, and a few hours later, as he was preparing to bed down, the woman who had kissed him paid him a visit.
She’d stayed the night, and though he was in no better shape to fuck than he was to ride, she’d given him the most exquisite blow job he’d received to that time. To say he was flabbergasted would be an understatement. After his orgasm they’d talked, and she’d talked about life in the Kings, and how she liked that he kept getting up every time the thug knocked him down. Everyone who saw the fight thought he was King material, and she encouraged him to apply for a prospect patch.
He’d slipped out at four, leaving the woman sleeping in the bed. He wanted to stay, but he had to be at work by nine.
That evening, after work, he’d stopped by the library and looked up the Iron Kings on the internet. He wrote a heartfelt thank you for their hospitality and expressed an interest in joining the brotherhood. The letter went in the mail the next day.
He waited for weeks, each day hoping to hear from the Kings, but hope gradually faded and he realized they weren’t going to offer him a patch, and he had returned to his life of drudgery and grind. Then the unexpected had happened. He’d met Stella.
He’d been invited to a party where he was supposed to hook up with a chick who wanted to meet him, but he’d left with Stella instead. There was something about her that he couldn’t get enough of. Yes, she was gorgeous, and yes, she could fuck him like no other woman, but it was more than that. It was that certain something you can’t describe but can feel when someone was the one. Stella was definitely his the one, and he fell for her hard.
After dating a year, they mov
ed in together. She was working at On A Roll as a clerk while lobbying the manager to be moved into the bakery so she could do what she loved, and he’d left the car wash and was working at a brickyard.
They weren’t getting rich, but they were making it, putting a little back each month, and they were happy. Then it happened. One day he had a job, the next, the gates were locked and the owners were under investigation for tax evasion. He’d cast about for more work, even returning to the car wash, but nothing was available.
Three weeks after being let go, and feeling as low as he ever had in his life, he received a phone call from the Iron Kings. They wanted to talk to him about a prospect patch. He was thrilled at the opportunity, but also torn. It was one thing to move to Charleston when he had nothing, but now he had Stella. He wavered, then decided to go. If they offered the prospect patch, they could try to figure out what to do.
