by A. J. Downey
“I hear a ‘but’,” I said.
“But stranger things have happened,” he said carefully.
“Fuck me, what are they lookin’ at?”
“I wish I could tell you, but even I am on a strictly need-to-know basis and IAB doesn’t think I need to know – at least not yet.”
“What the fuck?”
“About how I feel about it. Which is why I am just saying, for your own good, tread carefully with the sister right now.”
“Ellie and I are just fine as we are,” I said, and Yale’s eyebrows went up.
“It’s already too late, isn’t it?” he asked.
“Just say it, dude. Ask it. Whatever!”
“You’ve, ah, already been intimate?”
“Fucked. You mean fucked. And yeah, just last night in fact.”
“When were you planning on seeing her again?” he asked, standing, burying his hands in his pockets and hanging his head, mouth twisting in thoughtful contemplation.
“Tonight, as a matter of fact.”
He nodded.
“Just keep things on the down low. Say nothing about what we’ve spoken of here. At least until we have anything definite to say about it.”
“Dude, you swear you’ve told me everything about this that you know?” I bored holes in his lily white-bred ass with my gaze.
He nodded. “I swear it. I have my own thoughts on what could be up but it’s all purely speculation at this point, so I would rather not share.”
“Get to speculating,” I said, crossing my arms.
“Now that I won’t do,” he said and I knew that look. I’d reached my limit on what the cagey prosecutor would say.
“Fuck, man…”
“It’ll all be resolved, good, bad, or indifferent by the middle to the end of the week,” he said, and it sounded like he was swearing on a stack of law books – which was Yale’s version of a bible anyhow so I would take it as a gospel preaching.
I nodded. “Alright now.”
He sighed and it didn’t sound happy. I could feel for him.
“Thanks for tellin’ me what you could,” I said and he nodded.
“I shouldn’t have even told you that,” he said dryly.
“I know,” I nodded.
“You know no matter what, we got your back, right?” He fixed me with a gaze made of twin hot coals.
“Yeah, I know. I got you, brother. Same as you got me.”
“Good. You staying for a drink, maybe some lunch?”
I shook my head.
“Naw, man. I gotta get home and do some laundry, get ready for the work week.”
“And go see the sister, right?”
I sighed and said, “She has a name. It’s Elka.”
“Fair enough,” he stated. “Guess I am just doing the prosecutorial distance thing.”
I frowned. “Sounds a lot like you think Ellie did something wrong in this, now.”
Yale’s eyebrows when up again. “Not at all and it’s ‘Ellie’ now, is it?”
“I told you, we been spending some time together.”
He nodded. “It’s way past dire warnings, isn’t it?” he asked frankly.
“By a long flat mile,” I agreed.
He gave a long-suffering sigh and said, “That may or may not complicate things depending on the outcome of this review of the incident. Just do your best to be prepared.”
I stood up and stretched, trying to keep it lookin’ casual when really, I was tied up in knots on the inside.
“Hard to prepare for shit when you don’t know what’s coming,” I pointed out.
Yale smiled a bit and said, “This is you we’re talking about, Oz. You always find a way.”
“Yeah, I’m a regular fuckin’ boy scout,” I drawled sarcastically.
Yale chuckled and I saw myself out, leaving him in the room on his own for the moment. The rest of the guys looked up expectantly from around the tables out front. Some of their ol’ ladies who’d tagged along mirroring their men’s faces. I felt like Johnny-on-the-spot, and I hated that shit.
“What’s the word?” Youngblood asked, coolly assessing.
“I have no fuckin’ idea,” I told him honestly. “I’m out. I got shit to do today that doesn’t include worrying about shit that ain’t happened yet.”
“You sure, brother?” Backdraft asked, concern wrinkling his brow.
“I’m sure,” I muttered and waved back at them all over my shoulder as I reached the front door and stepped out onto the summer sidewalk.
So what if I took the long way home, favoring the ride as I puzzled shit out. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t worried, but I didn’t know a single thing that I needed to be worried about. I’d done everything by the book. It was a textbook perfect takedown, if there was such a thing. I’d identified and stopped homeboy from shooting up the goddamn neighborhood any worse than he already had… so why did it feel like I was about to be punished for doing the right thing?
Damn.
20
Elka…
A knock fell at my door later that evening and I smiled to myself. I set my brush aside and wiped my slightly sweaty palms on the back of my paint spattered and streaked shorts and went to answer that knock, low key excited and knowing who it was likely to be on the other side.
I wasn’t wrong. I opened my front door to Oz holding up a pyramid of Styrofoam clamshells in a knotted grocery sack.
“Thought maybe it was time for you to take a break and eat something,” he said with a smile.
I grinned, biting my bottom lip to try and suppress just how stupid happy I was to see him.
“Your timing is impeccable,” I said, stepping aside. “I’m famished.”
“Well, alright then.” He laughed slightly and stepped through the door and I had missed the small gym bag in his other hand.
“Oh, planning on staying the night, are we?” I asked.
“Damn straight,” he said, setting his bag on the arm of my couch on the way by and pulling me up against his body the second his arm was free to do so.
I kissed him with enthusiasm and wrapped my arms around his waist.
“I do have to leave early for work in the morning,” I reminded him.
“Yeah, I got a standing appointment with the hose boys to get a workout in before I go to work, so it’s all good.”
I felt my lips curl in a smile. “Hose boys?” I asked.
“The firefighters,” he corrected and I laughed.
“I’m sure they just love that.”
He shrugged. “Don’t care if they do, don’t care if they don’t. I’ma asshole like that.”
I laughed and shook my head. “You’re the furthest thing from an asshole as a guy can get,” I told him and he raised an eyebrow.
“You just say that because I’m nice to you.”
“Okay,” I agreed. “Touché.” He had me there.
“So, what’s for dinner?” I asked and he held up the bag.
“Chicken Teriyaki for you, with Gyoza and Chicken Katsu for me.”
“Awww, I love Gyoza!”
“See, I knew that,” he said and I giggled. It was something we had talked about, cuddling the night before. Different things we liked, which had mostly centered on food for some reason.
“What are you doing?” he asked when I headed for the kitchen.
“Getting plates?”
“To hell with that, why you gonna make dishes? Just grab some forks.”
I smiled and said, “Yes, sir!” crossed my eyes and gave him a half-assed salute.
“Oh, okay! I see how it is now!”
Another fit of giggling and some silverware later, we were seated at my dining room table for four and a right angle to one another, happily munching our take away and discussing all manner of small things.
“How did your meeting or whatever go?” I asked not quite sure what to call it as he had called it something different from ‘meeting’ earlier that day.
“Church?
” he asked.
“Sounds so sacrilegious, but yeah, that,” I said, sticking a bite of teriyaki chicken breast in my mouth.
He grinned across the space between us and thumbed a bit of sauce off my bottom lip. I watched him suck it off the pad of his thumb and why was that so hot?
“It went okay,” he said.
“Don’t sound so enthusiastic about it.” I rolled my eyes.
His smile was a good one and he said, “Wow, look at you go with your sarcastic self. No, really, it went alright the first half of it. Second half got boring real quick.”
“So, Cliff’s Notes it for me,” I said.
“I can’t tell you all of it,” he said. “Club business is club business, but I can tell you what we’re up to in a couple weeks. I was actually hoping you’d go with me.”
“Oh yeah? You’ve got my curiosity piqued. What’s going on in a couple of weeks?”
I told her about the Little Havana block party, and she blinked at me and asked, “And you want me to go with you?”
“Well, yeah.”
“Like on a date? A for real date with your friends and everything?”
I was a bit taken aback. Just like that? That easy? He’s not your ex, I thought once again and probably, most definitely, not for the last time, either.
“Yeah, Ellie. I mean, you have a problem with it?” he asked, and I shook my head rapidly, chewing furiously through the bite I had in my mouth and trying to swallow so I could speak.
“Slow down,” he demanded. “You’re gonna choke.”
“Sorry, and no, not at all. I guess given my history with guys I’m just… surprised, that’s all.”
“What kind of fucknuggets you been with?” he asked, and I couldn’t help it, the use of the word ‘fucknuggets’ was so unexpected, I cracked up laughing. I pictured my ex along with the label and laughed so hard I couldn’t breathe! I mean, it wasn’t all that funny, but it just struck my funny bone so hard I spent a solid few minutes gasping and wheezing between gales of laughter.
Oz waited me out a smirk on his sexy full lips and I shook his head as he took another bite of rice. “Wasn’t that damn funny,” he said around his mouthful of food and I rolled my eyes.
“Was to me.”
“Didn’t answer the question,” he said.
“No. No, I did not.” I didn’t answer it then, either, and to his credit, Oz left it alone.
“So, what were you thinking on doing the rest of the evening?” I asked after a long, but comfortable, silence.
“Dunno. You wanna get some more painting in?” he asked.
I thought about it.
“No, I think I’m done for tonight on that front, but I do need to do a bit of clean up in there.”
“Maybe watch some T.V.?” he asked.
“I don’t actually have T.V.,” I said. “I have a few favorite movies, and the DVD player, but that’s about it. It’s not even a Blu-Ray,” I said and smiled at the look of horror that crossed his face.
“Damn. Okay. How about this, you clean up, I’ll run down to the Movie Box at the corner store and pick up a couple of things for us to watch?”
I checked the time and bargained with him, “Mmmm, it’s getting late. How about just one movie? Your choice.”
He nodded. “Deal. Favorite flavor of ice cream?” he asked.
“Oh, now you’re talking! Chocolate Chip Mint.”
“Alright, now. You got it.”
He got up and I did too, stowing my remaining food in the refrigerator. He watched me for a long minute and I paused. “Everything okay?” I asked.
“Everything’s great,” he said and smiled. It held a touch of longing, or sadness to it… something I just couldn’t place. That just wasn’t quite right.
“You sure?” I asked cautiously.
“I’m sure, babe. I just like lookin’ at you is all.”
I smiled and blushed, bowing my head.
“Takes some getting used to, I guess.”
“Yeah? Well you better get used to it,” he said and shrugged into his jacket and vest that was hanging on the back of his chair.
“Oh, I’m sure I will,” I said with a pleasant smile.
“Be back before you know it,” he said.
“Okay.”
He went out and I cleaned up both the dining room, the few dishes I had in my kitchen sink, and put the kettle on for some tea while I went and dealt with putting my studio to rights.
Oz came back in calling out from the front, “Ellie!”
“Yeah?” I called out.
“C’mere for a minute.”
I finished up quickly and went back out to the front where he’d set the bag with the pints of ice cream on the table. His jacket and vest he was returning to the back of this chair.
“What’d you forget to do?” he asked gently, and it immediately set my teeth on edge. The echo of my ex in the question. I had hated when he’d done that. Asking me something when I clearly didn’t know the answer to just lord it over me – whatever mistake I’d done now – but this was Oz and Oz was different.
“I don’t know, just rip the Band-Aid off and just tell me,” I said, tense.
He flinched like my response was weird and to a normal person, of course it was but he answered me, anyway.
“Babe, you forgot to lock the door behind me. This ain’t the best neighborhood. I don’t want anything to happen to you.”
I nodded slowly, and he came over to me and pulled me into a tight embrace.
“You alright?” he asked.
“Yeah,” my voice was muffled in his tee.
“Liar,” he said with a light chuckle. “Wanna tell me what’s up?”
I swallowed hard and told him.
“Yeah, that’s fucked up,” he agreed. “I’ll be careful how I phrase it next time.”
“Thanks,” I murmured.
“Hey, it’s no problem,” he said.
“What’re we watching?” I asked, changing the subject.
“Oh, now I got one of my favorites,” he said, handing over the flat DVD case.
“Spy thriller, niiiice.”
We settled on the couch in a cuddle pile to watch and it felt good to have his arms around me. It felt even better when he would absently kiss my hair for no reason, or the way he had to adjust himself in his jeans simply from my proximity.
Midway through the movie, during a particularly spicy scene, I found myself both motivated and inspired. I twisted in his lap and climbed his prone form like a tree. He chuckled and smiled, reaching for me as I kissed him.
“Hi,” he murmured and I smiled impishly.
“Hi,” I whispered back, and my back went awash in a tingling euphoria when his hands slipped beneath the hem of my tee to caress my skin beneath.
Words failed, emotions took over, and our hands and mouths spoke for us for the time being. I let my hands push the bottom of his tee away, my fingers nimbly working his belt open, and the button through its loop on his jeans so I could finally lower his zipper.
“You want some of what I got?” he asked playfully, and I bit my bottom lip and grinned sliding down his body as he watched me, taking his pants down, his underwear with them, his cock bobbing thick and fully engorged in front of my eyes. It was a daunting task, giving a man his size a blowjob, but I was up for the challenge. Whether my jaw would hold out for long was a whole different bag of bricks, but I would go for as long as I could.
I took him into my mouth and the sound of his quickly sucked in, almost startled, breath that he took aroused me completely. I hummed in appreciation around his shaft and he gasped out, “Oh, God!” above my head in such a supremely satisfying way it just egged me on. I lay on my stomach on my couch, feet kicked up behind me, and fisted his base, working his lower shaft with my hand as I treated the head of his cock like an obscene ice cream cone or lollipop and I couldn’t have been happier to hear just how much I was doing it for him.
I loved that about Oz. He wasn’t afraid
to be vocal. To encourage me to do it like that, yes just like that, or to direct me to where I would ultimately reach that particular praise. He was bold and beautiful in every way like that. He didn’t care. He didn’t sugarcoat things. There was no guessing with him and that was so precious to me, you don’t even know.
It was easy to love him for that one quality alone, as much as it terrified me to ever love someone so completely again.
I wasn’t sure I could handle another heartbreak, being passed over for something better when it came along had nearly crushed me… but Oz didn’t make me feel like I was anything less.
The opposite, in fact.
He made me feel like I was everything. The careful attention he paid me was something I had never before encountered, and it was hard not to trust in him. Hard not to love him, and though I admit that I had been struggling with my feelings to a certain extent, right now, when we were like this, I didn’t hold anything back.
The glow of positive vibes and emotion suffused me and brought me back to life as I worked him with my mouth. Sliding him back over my tongue, teasing him with my lips, carefully avoiding everything with my teeth. I slid into that Zen-like state where I could take him further and further in, touching the back of my throat just slightly, breathing carefully around him, holding my breath, stroking him in and out of my mouth in a timed rhythm. He fisted the cushions on my couch, one on the back, the other at his hip and held still.
I loved that he controlled himself; that he didn’t grab at me, or force anything. That he just took what I had to give and that was enough. It was empowering. It was its own aphrodisiac and I found myself reaching for my own waistband, with him still in my mouth.
“Enough!” he cried. “Enough, enough, enough. Get up here.”
He reached down and guided me up his body, my mouth to his and God, I’d never had a man hold me like this. Hold me against him as if I were his very last breath to breathe and he didn’t want me to get away. It was possessive, but not in any way that made your skin crawl. Rather it made me melt into his arms, my mind delirious with happiness, scrambling in circles for the word, what was that word?
Safe.
I felt safe in his embrace, but not just in a physical sense. I felt safe in the sense that I knew he wouldn’t hurt me. Not just physically, but emotionally. That as strong, as big and scary as he was, my heart was safe, beating in his gentle hands.
