by Teagan Kade
By the time he’s sucking my clit in earnest, I’ve lost all control, bucking hard against his face, my thighs tight around his head, locking him against me. He continues to focus on my clit, sucking and running his tongue in hot figure eights, the pressure always perfect.
It builds, pins and needles forming in my extremities, my entire body tight as a bow, pulling, pulling, clenching, building, until I cannot take a second more.
I don’t fall off the edge, I throw myself from it, the climax crashing into me with all the intensity of a winter tempest. My thighs are clamping against his head so hard I worry I’ll crush it in some dim, distant corner of my mind while my orgasm carries on, forcing the wet wall of my pussy harder against his mouth.
It’s forever before I remember to breathe, able to suck in a quick draw of breath before it all starts over again, Archer’s tongue relentless. I rise and fall in orgasm, riding it until I don’t know where I end and he begins.
It’s only as my eyes open and start to focus again, that I can see where I am, I’m able to process just what happened.
I sit up and see him looking back at me with a lazy smile—head intact.
He comes forward, crawling onto the bed. I can taste myself on his lips, bringing my arms up and around his neck, pulling him against me. “How do you want me?” I ask.
“You’re going to ride me,” he replies. “You’re going to ride me until I come in that tight little pussy of yours. You think you can do that?”
“Yes, sir,” I smile.
He rolls onto his back and I waste no time throwing my leg up and over, straddling his body. He reaches up to palm my breasts, barely big enough to fill his hands. He doesn’t seem to mind, smiling appreciatively. “Did I already say how beautiful you are?”
“Once or twice.”
He reaches back, sharply smacking my ass, enough to elicit a surprised yelp. He looks down between us. “Well, what are you waiting for?”
Nervous, I take hold of his cock, thick and hard in my fingers, and guide it against me. It parts my pussy, sitting there while his hands come to my waist, his eyes finding mine saying ‘Do it.’
Slowly, I let myself down, rolling my hips to take just the tip of his cock inside, being sure to watch his expression when I lift and then drop, watching the way his eyes widen when he slides deep into the silky glove of my pussy.
I thought his tongue felt good, but the way his cock fills me, the wonderful sense of satisfaction it provides, is without equal.
“God, yes,” I moan. “Yes. Yes. Yes.”
I rock and grind against him, lifting and falling, taking him to the hilt every time until my pubis is flat against his chest, my clit rubbing exquisitely against the hard slab of his lower chest.
He thrusts upwards from below, urging me on, telling me in minute detail how it feels, the wet warmth I’m providing.
He grunts and takes hold of my ass, rolling us over until I’m on my back and starting to thrust deeper.
“Yes,” I choke, “fuck me.”
I never thought I’d ever hear myself utter those words, but in that moment I am someone else completely, someone possessed.
His head drops, his lips brushing mine. I lift myself up to meet them, my neck straining, but he always pulls away at the last second, each taunt forcing my pussy to clench around his cock.
He groans and bucks against me harder now, the wet slap of our bodies echoing around the room, the erotic sounds we’re making only adding to the act.
I can’t suppress the sounds coming out of my mouth.
If Robbie couldn’t hear us before, he sure can now.
“I can’t wait to have you every night,” Archer tells me, his breathing labored, cock sluicing in and out of my sex. “I want to know every part of you intimately—your mouth, your pussy, your asshole. They’re all mine. Understand?”
I nod, unable to do much more. I dig my nails into his back, rake them against his shoulder blades as he fucks me. His words, the way he takes me… It’s turning me into a hot mess, more animal than woman, a new and profound creature of his making.
“I want you to look at me,” he says, a sharp thrust sending a bolt of pleasure up my spine. “I want to see the look on your face when you come again.”
My eyes begin to roll back in my head, but he takes my face in his hand. “No, no, baby. I said look at me. Look into my eyes. Yes, you fucking like that, don’t you?”
“Yes,” I whisper, already feeling the familiar strum of something building, growing inside me.
He builds in turn, each thrust running deeper and longer, harder and harder until the entire bed is shifting.
He doesn’t tire, continuing on and on, head dropping to take a nipple into his mouth, pulling it away from my breast until I grunt with pleasure.
“Yes,” he says, “come for me. Come all over my cock, beg me to fill you.”
“Y-yes,” I stammer, “please. Please,” I repeat, a hot tear sliding down my cheek.
This time the climax comes unexpected, a freight train barreling from the darkest of nights. I half-scream, half-shout in surprise, stiffening before my body falls into a complex series of contractions from which there is no escape.
I twitch and buck, exploding from within, my sex gripping and releasing Archer’s beautiful cock in quick succession. It’s at that moment he grunts aloud, finding the end of it and stopping there, a flood of heat following.
We come together, holding each other tight through it, never wanting this to end.
With a final jerk of his hips, he allows himself to breathe, falling against me and sliding to the side, his cock coming free to sit wetly against my thigh.
My body continues to thrum, alive and energized.
“That was…” but I can’t find the words.
He rolls onto his back beside me, his leg bent over mine. “Yes, it was, wasn’t it?”
The need’s cooling between my thigh, a growing wetness there I’m pretty sure it going to ruin these sheets for good.
He reaches a hand across into the space there and feels the mattress.
“Holy shit,” he says. “You came so hard. Do you know how fucking hot that is?”
I was kind of embarrassed, but now I smile. “I don’t know what happened.”
He rolls back on top of me, brushing my hair from my face and covering my mouth with his own. I slide my tongue over his lower lip, testing while he presses his forehead against mine. “How do you feel?” he asks.
I look deep into his eyes, sliding my hands around his neck. “Better,” I smile.
CHAPTER TWENTY-ONE
ARCHER
We arrive at the police station just after noon. The precinct is surprisingly quiet given the madness outside, but I’ve heard they keep a tight ship around here.
Beside me, Winter seems uncertain, holding her arm, eyes darting everywhere but straight ahead.
We talked about this again this morning and agreed this was the right decision, no matter Winter’s distrust of law enforcement.
I pause before we get to the front desk. Taking her by the arms and holding her gaze. “This is the best way,” I tell her. “I’ve known Liam forever. We served together, we fought together… He’ll treat you right.”
“What if they lock me up? I’m an illegal alien, aren’t I?”
I pretend I’m checking her head. “Two eyes, no antennas… Seems like you’re pretty human to me.”
She’s in no mood for my antics. “I’m serious, Archer.”
“I have Liam’s word you won’t be locked up. You’re an informant, after all. I run my thumb lightly over her forehead. “There’s so much knowledge up here, and in here,” I say, waving the envelope with her notes, “the Lacoya Cartel can kiss their narco asses goodbye, and I don’t think anyone’s going to be sorry to see them go.”
She nods. “I suppose you’re right.”
She drops her eyes, but I lift her chin back up. “You can be strong, can’t you, for me? You’re a badass
remember?”
She nods again.
I lean forward to kiss her. “Good. Come on.”
Liam meets us at the front desk, taking Winter’s hand. “Winter, is it? So nice to meet you properly.”
“And you,” she replies meekly, shaking it.
There’s no subtle wink in my direction or wise-crack about her rescue. Liam is in full business mode. He stands there with his hands on his hips, pulling his jacket back into place when he sees Winter’s eyes wander to his weapon. “Welcome to the Miami Beach PD, I guess,” he says, looking around. “It ain’t the Westin, but it’s got a quaint kind of eighties charm, you know.”
We share a glance, Liam taking a step towards Winter. She steps back ever so subtly.
He puts his hands out. “Look, Archer here and I go way back. You’re going to be safe here, okay?”
I place my hand on her back. “He’s right. This is the safest place right now. Just tell Liam what you told me, tell him everything.”
“I’ll make it as quick as can be,” says Liam. “You’ll forget you were even here.”
I’m not quite sure how he’s making that promise. It’s like he’s suggesting she’ll be free to go.
I jerk my head to the side at him. “Can I have a quick word?”
“Sure, brother,” he smiles.
We step over to the wall.
“You’re sweating,” I tell him, pointing to the perspiration on his forehead.
He dabs at it with the corner of his jacket. “Fucking AC around here. I swear to God. I bet garbage collectors get a bigger budget than we do.”
The place does look it’s falling apart somewhat, a set direct from Lethal Weapon. I wouldn’t be half-surprised if Mel Gibson and Danny Glover were to appear around the corner, a hot-tempered Captain Murphy on their tail.
“Is she going to be okay?” I ask.
Liam presses his cheek out with his tongue. It’s the kind of simple personal tick that throws me right back to our time serving. “Of course. If what you told me is true, if she has the heads-up on their operation, she’s basically gold—untouchable, even not being an American citizen. I’ll speak to the Feds, the only people I can trust, and we’ll make it work. I’ll have you two back to bumping uglies in no time.”
“It’s not like that.”
He takes my shoulder. “Like I said, we go way back, so don’t tell me you ain’t getting a good piece of that.”
“Just promise me she’ll be safe.”
He places his hand over his heart. “This we’ll defend, brother.”
He looks down to the envelope. “That for me?”
I hand it over. “She wrote it all down. It’s all in here.”
He takes it, holding it up. “Can’t wait to see these pricks go down.”
“You and me both.”
I look over to where Winter’s standing. “Can you give us a minute before you take her in?”
He squeezes my shoulder. “Take all the time you need.”
I head back over to Winter, holding her by the hips. Fuck who sees it. I kiss her lightly on the forehead. “I’ll be right out here, okay, waiting. You’re going to be fine. We are going to be fine.”
She attempts a smile.
“That’s my girl.”
She looks to Liam standing by the door leading to the secured area.
“All ready?” he says.
We kiss one final time. God, I don’t want to let her go, but I know I have to.
I hold her hand until the last moment, my arm lifting up until it’s just our fingertips touching and then nothing at all.
She reaches Liam and looks back, smiling, but I see it drop the moment he opens the door and ushers her through.
Liam gives me a thumbs up before disappearing himself, the door closing with a mechanical click.
I stand there and take a breath.
It’s done.
But something’s bothering me. I sit and try to work out what’s got me rattled, but nothing’s coming to mind. All I’m drawing are big fat fucking blanks.
I pick up a magazine, but the words blur together. I can’t concentrate. I try the TV on the wall, but it’s some crappy reality show I can’t stand.
I don’t know why, but I become increasingly restless sitting there, my hands fixing themselves over and over. The AC seems to be working just fine, but I’m still sweating like a Sunday roast.
I decide to head out front for a quick breather.
Outside, it’s overcast, a cooler front moving in from the east.
I regulate my breath, starting to feel a hell of a lot better when I spot a khaki Jeep Wrangler emerging from the police parking lot and waiting to turn into the traffic.
It’s Liam’s Jeep, the one he bought the very day we got back from Afghanistan, with its now fading ‘American Patriot’ bumper sticker and the dent in the side where an old woman in a mobility scooter crashed into it.
I dismiss it at first, think maybe someone else is driving, it’s another car maybe, but I can see him through the window, clear as day and, beside him in the passenger seat, Winter.
I squint, looking harder, but there’s no doubt about it.
It’s her.
What the fuck?
I don’t know where he’s taking her, why she isn’t inside like he said, but immediately a deep sense of unease knots itself in my stomach.
It was the thumbs-up, I realize. When the hell ever has Liam done that before? It was out of character. A middle finger, sure, but a fucking thumbs-up? It makes no sense.
Something’s wrong.
I spot a South Beach Yellow Cab in the flow of traffic, basically running in front of it, the car screeching to a stop and the driver throwing his hands up. “What the fuck, man?” he yells.
I open the rear door and slide across the back seat and pointing through the windshield. “I need you to follow that Jeep up ahead, the khaki one. You see it?”
The driver, a young Hispanic man, looks out his window and sees the police station. “Oh, shit. Is this like official police business?”
“Yes,” I half-shout, eager to get moving. “Go!”
The cab tears away, cutting off a minivan and snaking into the flow of traffic.
The driver, whose name is apparently Mateo given the license on the dash, slaps the steering wheel with excitement. “Holy shit, man. Who are we after? Bank robbers? Murderers? Or is it some real sick shit, like mad conspiracy shit?”
I lean forward, holding the headrests. “Just keep on them, but not too close, okay. Hang back a little.”
“Yes, boss,” he salutes, smiling in the rear-view. “I’ve waited my whole life for this.”
I want to remind him we’re not in the Fast & Furious here, but I’m too busy concentrating on Liam’s Jeep. If I had laser eyes I’d be burning a hole right through it about now.
I expect Liam to turn around, to realize his mistake, to at least call me… something, but the Jeep continues to drive on. I try his cell, try calling the precinct, but it’s no good. He’s AWOL with Winter in tow.
Where the fuck are you taking her? I’m thinking, that knot growing tighter and tighter the further away we get from Main Beach.
I rattle my brain trying to think of who else I can call, but it’s like my head is filled with pea soup, all that training from the Army of keeping your cool and focusing completely gone.
I know it’s Winter. It’s my emotions getting the better of me, my attachment to her. I promised her I would keep her safe, that nothing would happen to her, and now what?
But you don’t know where they’re going, the more rational part of me pipes up. Maybe she was hungry. Maybe they’re going to get something to eat, going to a different, secure location. Maybe he’s fucking you over, the darker part fills.
Mateo’s doing a stand-up job, hanging back just enough so as not be conspicuous, though the traffic’s heavy enough a taxi isn’t exactly going to stand out.
Another fifteen minutes and we’re headed to
the Glades. The knot tightens until it’s a solid mass, a physical pain in my gut.
The traffic thins as we move away from the main roads, the seaside giving way to new estates and roads that haven’t seen attention since Reagan. It’s not a good sign. I know it. I feel it. I should never have handed her over like that.
If Liam hurts her, if he fucking touches one hair on her head, I don’t care what our history says, I’m going to fucking kill him, take him apart piece by piece and feed him to the gators.
Ahead, the Jeep enters a small industrial estate, two G-series Mercedes in black pulling off the side of the road to follow behind.
“Careful now,” I tell Mateo. “Nice and slow. Just creep up there.”
He does as I tell him, the taxi slowly driving past where I saw the Jeep and G-wagons enter.
I see them pulling up out front what looks like an old packing warehouse.
“Stop,” I tell Mateo. “Wait a second.”
Liam emerges from the Jeep, four or five guys hopping out of the Mercedes all different shades of no fucking good. Even from here I recognize one of them as the guy who came to the tower that day asking around—the cartel muscle.
They talk for a moment, Liam looking strangely meek. They seem to finish, and he walks around to the passenger door, pulling Winter free. She’s holding onto the grab handle, refusing to let go until one of the goons takes her by the hands, two of them basically tearing her away and leading her inside the warehouse, Liam following scratching his head.
She screams and it takes everything I have not to leap from the vehicle in full on attack mode.
But my hatred is centered on Liam.
You motherfucker, I think, pure, heated rage boiling through my veins. But this is no time for fucking around. I take all the money in my wallet and hand it to Mateo. “For your trouble.”
He turns around in his seat looking confused. “You’re not going to wait for backup? Put on a vest?” He looks down. “Where’s your piece?”
“Left it at home,” I lie.
I open the door. “Go on now. Get as far away as you can.”
“Wait, wait, wait,” he says, apparently reconciling something with himself. He nods to the back of the car, the trunk unlatching. “Have a look, under the floor. Maybe you can find something useful back there.”
