Jagger_The Hottest Guys You'll Love to Love

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Jagger_The Hottest Guys You'll Love to Love Page 5

by Jessie Cooke


  “Sure Happy. I’m always careful.”

  “I saw some of them bangers that attacked you last year hanging around the other day…I mean, I don’t think they were the same guys, but they were wearing the same colors.” I shivered. Last year about this time I’d fallen asleep on one of the benches. I’d woken up to four nasty gang bangers with their hands all over me. I fought them and did some pretty good damage…but there were too many, like the college guys. They were dragging me back into the bushes when the police showed up. I never found out who called them, but I will be eternally grateful. I might have found out if I’d stayed around and talked to the police. I was as reluctant to do that as the bangers were. Some might think I have nothing to lose…but my freedom is all I have and if I lost that, I’d lose everything. I ran. They didn’t chase me. To them I was just another one of Las Vegas’s lost children.

  “I’ll be careful Happy.” I saw his attention shift and I knew someone was behind me. I turned around quickly. It was Mick and Old Frank. I gave Old Frank an “I’ll deal with you later” look, and turned on Mick. “What the hell are you doing here? Are you following me?”

  “I was worried when I went by the motel and you weren’t there.”

  I narrowed my eyes at him. “I don’t know who appointed you as my keeper but I don’t need you to follow me around. I’m fine. I’ve lived on my own for years.”

  “Skye…” he looked at Old Frank and Happy and said, “Can I talk to you for a minute, alone?”

  I gave Old Frank another look to let him know he was in trouble. He didn’t look too worried, Mick had probably paid him. “Come on!” I told Mick. He followed me to one of the benches on the far side of the pond. I sat down and he did too. “What?”

  “I know that you’ve been taking care of yourself for a long time…but, I heard what that guy just said about you getting attacked. That’s at least twice that I know of. How long do you think your luck is going to hold out? You’re not as big as a minute. I could pick you up and carry you off right now and not a soul in this park could stop me.”

  “I’d inflict a lot of damage before you got me where we were going.”

  He grinned. “I don’t doubt that. But face it, Skye…size matters sometimes, especially when these pricks come at you four or five at a time….”

  “The real question is why do you care?”

  “Because I do.” He looked like he thought that was a good enough answer.

  I couldn’t help it, I laughed. “That’s a stupid answer.”

  “You’re so…” he shook his head. I’m sure a lot of adjectives would fit in there, none of them very nice. “Come stay with me. I have two bedrooms…”

  I stood up. “You’re frickin’ insane!” Or, he wants a sex-slave or a housekeeper…

  “Why? Because I’ve been nothing but a fuck-up my whole life and I finally want to do something for someone besides myself?”

  “I could be a serial killer and you’re inviting me into your home. Have some sense!”

  “I don’t think you are.”

  “I could be. You don’t know. I could rob you blind.”

  “I’ve got nothing to steal.”

  “Are you so hard up that you have to find your women on the street?”

  He laughed then. “I’ve never been hard up for sex, Skye. That’s not at all what this is about.” Figures. A guy who looks like him would never have any interest in a street urchin like me…at least not that kind of interest. I have no doubts that this guy can snap his fingers and have women ripping their own clothes off and falling at his feet. I can’t figure this guy out. What is it he wants from me? Maybe he wants to sell me into slavery or something. Maybe he has a secret room that he wants to keep me in and have his way with me whenever he wants…maybe I wouldn’t mind that too badly. God, I’m a worse pervert than he is.

  “I have the motel room until the end of the week.”

  “That’ll give you some time to think it over then.”

  “You’re crazy. I could be wanted by the police…did you ever think of that?” Would you still want to be my friend if you knew my secret?

  “You could be. So could I. How are you going to ever get your life back though if you don’t accept help?”

  I dropped back down onto the bench. He had no clue. There was no way to get a life back that you never had. I honestly have no idea how to function as an adult in society. It’s not like I could go to school, or get a job…you need an identity to do all of that…

  “What are you doing for dinner?”

  I laughed again. He was so clueless. “I thought I’d head over to Twist. They always take me in right away…” Twist is one of the best five star restaurants in Vegas. I’ve gotten some amazing things from the dumpsters out behind it at night. It’s the only time I’ve ever tasted lobster. I can’t believe people throw lobster away. How rich do you have to be to do that?

  “Do you have to be such a smart ass…all the time?”

  “No,” Maybe. It’s a defense mechanism. “But you’re pretty clueless about life on the streets, so it’s easy.”

  He rolled his eyes. “Come with me to my mother’s house for dinner.”

  “You are a freaking nut case.”

  “She’s an amazing cook.”

  “Did you collect all the stray animals in the neighborhood when you were a kid and take them home?”

  My face was suddenly engulfed by one of his big hands. He tilted my chin up towards his beautiful face and as he did, warmth literally exploded in my chest. My heart was racing and I felt like I couldn’t breathe. He was looking at me with this intense gaze and for about a second…I thought he was going to kiss me. I almost closed my eyes. Thank God I wasn’t that stupid.

  “You’re not an animal, Skye. I don’t know why you affect me the way that you do, but I honestly cannot just walk away and leave you out here. I have to know that you’re safe. If I could afford to rent another apartment for you to live in, I would. For now, the best I can do is offer you the extra room in my apartment. I swear to you that I don’t want anything at all in return. You can come and go as you please. You can eat whatever I have…you’ll be safe.”

  My emotions were swirling down into a bottomless pit of confusion. My desire for this man was warring against my drive for self-preservation. I wasn’t even thinking about the food or the bed…or television. I was thinking about sleeping down the hall from the Incredible Hulk. My belly was a raging inferno. Five years I’ve avoided jail, rape and death. I’ve done that by not allowing myself to feel anything for anyone. I stick close to “my kind” and leave the other kind alone. I don’t even ask for hand-outs. The fact that I was even considering Mick’s offer said that I needed to get away from him and quickly.

  I pulled back slightly and he released his hold on my chin. The place where his hand had been was cold now and empty. I mentally shooed the butterflies away and quashed the flames and said, “I doubt your mother would care for an urchin in tattered rags showing up at her dinner table.” I’ve never met a “friends” mother in my life. Especially not a guy’s mother. They’re the worst kind…I hear.

  “You don’t know my mother. She’s used to me if nothing else. I constantly surprise her. But just to make you feel better, we can stop at the motel first and you can change.”

  Change? “Into what? My robe?”

  “No…I bought you a few things…”

  I sighed. He was too much. He bought me clothes? Is this weird…or nice? I have no freaking idea. “You should just adopt me. That way you could at least write me off as a tax deduction.”

  He smiled. “That’s actually the best idea I’ve heard all day.”

  “You can’t sleep with your kid though, even if she’s adopted. It’s still incest.”

  “For a tax write-off, I’d make the sacrifice.” I know I’m ridiculous, but I wish he’d at least try and sound sincerely disappointed. “Let’s get going. Mom won’t mind you coming…but she’ll be pissed if we’re l
ate.”

  He just assumes that I’m going.

  Mick settled himself back against the headboard of the bed in the motel when I went to take my shower. It took everything in me not to climb up on top of him and offer myself to him. I’m sure he’d love nothing more than to have sex with a virgin…who lives on the streets and could pass for an adolescent. I tore my eyes from the sight of his long, perfectly proportioned body and those strong arms with the tats that drove me crazy. I went into the bathroom, closed the door and stood up against it for support. Once I was alone I had to take about a dozen deep breaths to get my own breath to return to normal. Living in the same apartment with this guy would be really…really…stupid.

  I took a long shower and thought about my situation. A couple of days ago I was fine with my lot in life…okay, not fine, but I as making do with it. Now all of a sudden I’m sleeping in a clean place on a soft mattress with warm blankets. When I get back out there on the streets I’ll be soft and spoiled. The others like me will shun me because of my clean, fresh smell and new clothes.

  Curiosity overcame me and I looked into the shopping bags he’d given me. There was a pair of jeans and some shirts and…a dress? I think the last time I wore a dress was at my parent’s funeral. It was sweet of him, but not practical…not even for tonight. I wasn’t about to straddle that Harley with my dress up around my waist, and when I went back out on the streets, looking fashionable and showing skin were definitely not an option. I took out the jeans and a purple t-shirt and picked up the next bag. There were five pair of underwear and a bra. I took them out and looked at them. The underwear looked perfect, but the bra might be a little small. I slid it on and hooked it in front. Then I twisted it around and brought the straps up over my shoulders. I had to literally stuff my boobs down into them and as soon as I bent down to pull up my jeans, they popped back out. In Mick’s defense, I’d kept them bound with an ace wrap. It was easier on my body with all the walking I did. It also kept a lot of the riffraff guessing my gender when I put on my hat. I tucked them one more time and pulled on the t-shirt. It was a V-neck and my image in the mirror was suddenly all cleavage. I adjusted the bra again and pulled the t-shirt down in the back. That was a little better.

  I reached into the other bag and pulled out the shoes. One pair was white sandals that I could never see myself in…like the dress; it had been a long time since I’d worn feminine shoes. The others were a pair of black Chucks. Now you’re talking. Of course there were socks in the bag too. I was starting to feel like I’d rubbed a magic lamp. Who the hell is this guy? Maybe he’s filming all of this for one of those reality shows like my aunt used to watch on TV.

  I finished dressing and ran the brush through my hair. It had been a really long time since I’d had access to a pair of scissors. It spilled out over my shoulders and down my back. I pulled it over to the side and made a braid. At least it was clean. I took one final look and imagined what his mother would think when he showed up with me. I guess at least this evening wouldn’t be boring.

  “Okay,” I said as I stepped out. “I’m ready.” Mick looked up from the television to me. His face suddenly looked like I was the last woman at the frat party. I had to fight my facial muscles to keep from smiling. Now I at least knew he found me attractive. Instead of smiling though, I raised an eyebrow and said, “Are you ready?”

  “Um…yeah…” he threw his long legs over the side of the bed. He hadn’t stopped staring at me.

  “Well close your mouth and wipe the drool off your chin then. You’re still not getting any of this.”

  He laughed. “I can’t even pretend I’m not interested anymore.”

  Music to my ears.

  7

  Jagger

  Oh my fucking God! I swear on my mother’s life that the thought of fucking Skye had not once crossed my mind…not once…until she walked out of that bathroom. It was like a kid walked in and a woman walked out. I guess I hadn’t realized just how baggy the clothes she’d been wearing were. She was a knock-out in a pair of jeans and the swell of her breasts up over the top of that t-shirt might just be the death of me. She’d pulled her hair over and made a messy braid out of it. It looked like bedroom hair and my perverted hands were itching to grab a fistful of it. I’d like to use it to pull her head back and have access to that suddenly long, graceful neck. Damn!

  I followed her outside and down the stairs, the whole time telling myself to stop looking at her ass. I didn’t listen. Jesus Christ, I asked this girl to live in my apartment…and I swore I wouldn’t touch her. How in the hell was I going to manage that? When she looked like a little girl, I was fine. Nice to know I’m not a total pervert, I guess. Now though, I’m afraid that my cock will still be trying to tear a hole in the front of my jeans when we get to my mother’s house. Fuck!

  I gave her the helmet, and tried to avert my eyes from her chest when she lifted her arms to put it on. She didn’t miss the look and I got one in return that solidified the fact that she thought I was a pervert. There was something super sexy about the fact I had no idea what she’d been hiding underneath that soiled t-shirt.

  Once we got on the bike I again told her to hold on like I had earlier. The last thing I wanted to do was dump her off on the pavement. She wrapped her arms around my waist the way I told her to, clasped her hands together and leaned into me. My disgusting, perverted mind imagined her running those hands under my shirt, unbuttoning my jeans and taking hold of my cock as we drove through town. God I was in trouble. I could literally almost feel it. It did give me a new idea…I’d never tried having sex on the bike. That could be hot.

  By the time we got to Mom’s, I had a case of the cotton mouth that not even my Acapulco gold could have brought on. I couldn’t shake the image of her hands sitting inches from my throbbing erection.

  She slid off the bike when I parked it in the driveway and pulled off the helmet. After she handed it to me she adjusted her braid and pulled her t-shirt down hard in back. I think she was trying to lose some of the cleavage. That was a shame. She suddenly looked hesitant to go inside.

  “Are you okay?”

  “Not really. You should have at least called and told her you were bringing me.”

  “She won’t mind, honestly. I’ve brought lots of people home for dinner over the years.”

  “Women?”

  “Some.” Not really.

  “Homeless women?”

  “Um…no.”

  “Then you don’t really know if she’ll mind or not, do you?”

  “She won’t mind, come on.” I reached for her hand. I was surprised at myself and even more surprised when she took mine and held onto it. I’m sure it was just to ease her nerves. It’s funny that a

  girl who lived on the streets and didn’t seem to be afraid of anything, was scared to death of meeting my mom.

  Before we got to the door, Mom pulled it open. She looked up at me and then down at Skye and then back at me with a puzzled expression. Then suddenly she was smiling. My lecture would be long and the guilt of worrying her even more than I already did, plentiful.

  Mom’s dark hair was perfectly styled as always. She was wearing a stylish dress that matched her green eyes and her make-up was done nicely. All of it made her look a lot younger than her fifty-five years.

  “Mom, this is Skye.”

  Mom took Skye’s hands in hers. Poor Skye looked like she might pass out. “It’s so nice to meet you, Skye. What a lovely name.”

  “Thank you. It’s nice to meet you too Mrs. Jagger.”

  “Oh please, call me Linda. Come on in, you two.” Mom led us into the kitchen. “Have a seat, Skye. Can I offer you something to drink?”

  “No, I’m fine. Thank you.” Mom wouldn’t even look at me. I couldn’t tell if she was mad, or just shocked that I showed up with a girl. That hasn’t really happened since I was a teenager and even then, it was rare. Most of the girls I hang out with aren’t the type you take home to mother. Why I thought Skye was, I
had no idea. Maybe because it really was just about being friends and there was no sex involved.

  “Where are you from, Skye?”

  “Las Vegas. I’ve lived here my entire life,” she said. Then suddenly she added, “Would it be okay if I used your restroom?”

  “Of course, Mick show her where it is.” I led Skye down the hall to the bathroom and before she went in she said,

  “Tell her about me now before she starts asking a lot of questions that I can’t answer.” I opened my mouth but before I could get any words out she closed the door in my face. Women are so bossy. I went back into the kitchen and Mom was already giving me “the look.” What good was it to be nearly seven feet tall if they were still going to push you around?

  “Sit down for a second, Mom. Please.” She cocked an eyebrow, but she sat. I took a breath and said, “Skye’s homeless, Mom. I found her in an alley. I rented her a motel room and bought her a little bit of food. Today I found out that she’s been attacked more than once living on the streets. I told her she could move into my apartment.” There, that wasn’t so bad.

  “Are you insane?” It could always get worse though, I guess.

  “No Mom. I’m compassionate. Isn’t that how you raised me?” I thought I’d give it a shot…pretend that I was listening all those years. That’s what women wanted, right? They wanted you to remember what they said and recite it back to them on demand.

  “There is compassionate…like, working at a soup kitchen or donating to charity…and there is stupid…like taking a stranger off the streets and into your home. She’s a gorgeous girl. But I know how you are with women Mick…and to make it worse, she doesn’t look a day over fifteen either. What if she’s a runaway? What if she accuses you of things? Oh God, Mick! You’re not sleeping with her already, are you?” I rolled my eyes. Mom got up and smacked me in the back of my head. “Do not roll your eyes at me.”

  Jesus. “I’m not sleeping with her, Mom. Jeez, look at her.” Not that Mom’s off base there. She is gorgeous…a lot more so than I realized before. But she still seems like a kid to me. That really is not what this is about. “Imagine her on the street trying to defend herself against a bunch of punks who want to take advantage of her. I can’t stand that thought. And she’s not fifteen, she’s twenty…in two weeks.”

 

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