by Tina Little
I catch a scent of him. It’s like a gallon of tangy testosterone in strong coffee with whiskey.
Standing near, I taste his breath. Feel the heat of his body.
He looks at the tattooed men on the ground.
“They could come around any moment.” He opens the door to the wrecked building. There could be another hundred men in there, but he isn’t afraid. I don’t believe anything could make him be afraid.
He certainly knows what he’s doing. He walks in ahead, his gun extended in both hands.
I duck inside. He spots a metal bar and uses it to jam across the door, sealing it shut behind us. The place looks like it used to be a luxury hotel.
It’s not luxurious now. It’s a wreck. Everything is smashed and broken.
We’re on a cracked and crumbling landing, halfway up a huge staircase that winds down to what must have been the foyer. Through the dirt, planks, broken furniture, smashed bottles and other wreckage is the remains of a marble floor.
Broken skeletons of chandeliers hang lopsided in the well of the staircase. Footprints in the dirt on the stairs lead up to the landing here. I make out a single set going down, too.
He looks around, pointing the gun, down the stairs, then up. He runs up to the next landing. Checks in all the doorways. A total pro.
He comes back. Beckons. “Follow me.”
Without thinking I say, “My guardian angel.”
He almost smiles. “Guardian, anyway. I’m no kind of angel.”
Chapter 5
Garrison
She runs into the big ballroom and still looks like she’s being chased by a pack of wolves. Her eyes dart around like a frightened animal.
I try to close the double doors behind us, but they’re broken and off their hinges. All I can do is to lean them roughly over the wide mouth of the doorway.
I want to keep her safe, but I might have to keep her quiet. Who knows what’s in this place. She runs into the far corner. I know she’s still unsure of me. But I feel that she wants to trust me. Her arms are together with her hands clasped up under her chin.
I can’t stop thinking about holding her. Restraining her. Her, struggling. thrashing in my strong grip. The ample, pliant flesh of her lovely young frame. That’s almost too much to bear. I have an overwhelming urge to protect her, but I have another strong urge, too.
I approach her, hands out, palms up. With as open a look as I can manage on my face. It’s not much of a face for doing anything, other than for occasionally scaring people.
“Please…” Her voice is thin. Her eyes are wet. I can hear the tremble in her throat.
“Don’t be afraid.” I keep my voice low and firm. “I’ll protect you. You are safe with me.”
I can see that she doesn’t believe me. But, why should she? As far as she’s concerned, I chased her all the way here.
“Those men. You…”
“Don’t worry.” I make my voice as gentle as I can. Like my face, it’s not naturally soothing. “Like I said, I’ll protect you.”
“Can you?” she says, and the need in her voice calls out to me. “Can you help me?”
“Yes ma’am. That, I certainly can.”
Seeing the gleam in her eyes shift and transform, from fear to trust, not completely, but enough to see the change, that melts my heart.
As she turns more to face me, taking a breath and making her chest swell, she raises her chin.
It’s a touching gesture of defiance, but also, as she lengthens her soft, white throat, showing it to me, it’s an acceptance of authority. Of command. She shows me that she is prepared to be mastered.
Before I even process it into a thought, that notion has buzzed around my veins. A pulsing in my pants has pressed and unrolled my cock into a straight, rigid, vertical rod. It throbs, and it’s starting to ache. I hope she isn’t going to notice, and I’m trying really hard to ignore it.
She looks straight down.
Then blinks as she looks back up again.
She looks right in my eye. She leans back into the corner with her hands on her thighs. And, unconsciously, unmistakably, she pulls at her skirt, sliding up the hem.
Her breasts heave and her scent is filling my head.
“I shouldn’t ask you for help.” Her lip quivers, “I don’t think anyone can help me, not really.”
Instinctively, I move nearer. She is so vulnerable, I want to cover her with the shield of my body. Moving even closer to her, I feel her heat. She plants her feet a little further apart. I take her face in my hand.
“If you tell me,” I say, “I can help.”
“I do need help,” she reaches out to touch my chest, “I don’t know what to call you.”
I’m about to answer, but she looks up, pleasing and says, “Can I call you Daddy?”
Her face turns in my hand. She brushes her cheek against my palm. And her eyes plead, wet.
With her hand still on my chest, her eyes travel down. And I can’t even criticize. My eyes have been all over her. Running after her, on the way here, I watched every flick of her skirt as it swayed around her beautiful round ass, giving me glimpses of her milky thighs. I didn’t miss a single moment of that. Any glimpse that I got the soft, dark insides of her thighs, I lapped that right up.
Her hips tilt and roll. Her teeth tug on her lip. She presses her face into the palm of my hand. Turns her head to put a soft kiss in my palm. Her plump, dripping pussy, I catch the scent of her, calling to me. Her pussy is definitely sending out scent messages, calling to my cock.
“Please…” As she presses on my chest, her hand slips. Down. “Let me be yours. Make me your own Tammi.”
I need it. I need her. My head is smoky and buzzing with her scents. But this isn’t the time. Not the time, or, looking around, God dammit not the place.
I lean down to explain. Her lovely body, her soft round tits, press and squeeze against me as I draw near. My cock fattens, hardens and straightens. I’m close enough to whisper. Still holding face. I reach down, just to steady. Just to reassure her. My hand lands on her waist. Her body springs to life, like she’s literally just been switched on.
She reaches for my face. Looks in my eyes.
“Please, Daddy,” she begs.
Then her thighs close and grip around mine.
Chapter 6
Tammi
All the danger and the confusion and the running has stirred me up and my pulse hammers. My breath is deep, hard. Feverish. My thoughts don’t make any sense anymore. But I know that he saved me. And I know that I want him, so hard.
I look up and my lips part. When he kisses me, everything changes. Nothing else matters.
His hand takes hold of my breast. Runs down my stomach. My thighs part and my knees sag. His strong fingers are on the outside of my skirt. Pressing against my stomach. Moving down. I know that he can feel how hot I am. The steely look in his eyes makes me weak.
The pulse of his immense cock heats me through my skirt, and my thin panties. I groan when he touches me there. I tremble as his hand slides up the inside of my thigh, then he takes a hold of my swollen pussy. His fingers press and rub on the soft heat of my mound, shoving my hood and my clit, spinning and churning me up inside.
He slips his fingers inside my panties. Traces and presses my lips and gouges at my opening. When his fingers press inside me, my legs buckle and I almost collapse. My weight drops into his hand and he takes full advantage. Pushing inside me, Scraping at the front of my flower while his thumb tantalizes my clit.
“This what you need?” his voice is gruff. Raw.
My throat is too thick for me to speak. I squeeze out, through a strained moan, “Yes, Daddy. I need that.”
I hang on to his neck, ride up and down on his hand. Press myself around the huge muscles of his arm. My hips roll and sway. He reaches deeper, finding me in ways I never felt before. I need him so bad. I need more. He’s setting me on fire inside. Firecrackers jump about in my core. Sparks shoot down my thighs
and crackle up to my hard, sore buds.
Wrapped tight around his arm, I cling to him. My hips roll and buck. Crude. Raw. Needing. I take all I can on his hand, grinding my pussy shamelessly against him. And I want more.
My ass clenches and I tremble. I shake all the way through my insides, Bursting in a juddering set of crashing waves. I’m coming, gushing into the palm of his hand, but I know I need a lot more.
I need all that he has. All that he can give me. I need him to fill me. Fill me and stretch me. Hard. He lifts me. I’m aching for his hard cock.
There’s nothing I want more than to trust him.
“Is it going to hurt?” My voice flutters as I ask him.
“Not too much. And not for long.”
“I’m afraid.”
He kisses me. Holds me close. In his arms I feel like nothing can touch me. Nothing but him. “It will be alright.”
“I know, Daddy.” I tell him. “I’m always afraid of pain. Until I feel it.” He looks in my eye. My thighs tremble and my pussy gushes into his palm. I whisper, “Then, sometimes I want to feel the pain again,” and my voice cracks.
His voice is so firm and solid, I feel like I could ride in it. “This is a pain you’ll only feel once.”
“Then I’m glad that I’ll feel it with you, Daddy. Are you going to make me yours now?”
Chapter 7
Garrison
Outside, a stair creaks. Holding down the anger and rage at being interrupted at such a huge moment, the very instant I was about to make this beautiful girl into my own princess, on the way to becoming my queen, I have to make her safe. I must protect her at all costs.
She sees the change in my expression. Instinctively, she reads me so perfectly. I put my finger to my lips. Signaling for her to follow, moving as quietly as I can, I pull her with me, leading her quickly along the wall to the side of the doors.
We both stay flat against the wall. People are outside. A group. They must have followed our footprints in the dirt. All at once, four guys shoulder the door and bust in. They all trample onto the flattened door. Schoolboy error.
I heave the near side of the door up. The two men closest topple into their two pals. I strain to shove the door up and over. Now four men are under it. Many arms and legs stick out. Two hands are gripping pistols. I show Tammi my hand to tell her to stay where she is.
I jump onto the door. I lean down and hammer the backs and the knuckles of the gun hands with the grip of my pistol, as they out from under the wood. The guns come free. Taking one for myself, I scoot the other across the floor to the far side of the room. I roll off the door, fast.
As the two men on top come up, I’ve got a gun barrel on each of them. They back off. Fast. I fire one shot each at their feet. Quickly aim back at their foreheads. They run down the stairs. Fast.
“Stay down!” I command the other two men. I move near enough to hold a gun at each of their heads. “Guns, knives. All of it. Out and on the ground. Push it all to the farthest you can reach.”
The little guy, the evil-eyed little fucker is the one I’m watching. The other one will give up and run. Like his buddies did. These kids are thrill-seekers. Baby hoods. They want excitement and money. Probably some pussy. They don’t have a death-wish.
I keep the small one on the ground and let his buddy scramble up. He turns and runs for his life. I slide a bullet past his hairdo to encourage him along.
Holding both barrels on the little guy, I let him up. Slow. With one barrel pointed in each eye, I tell him, “This is our second meeting.” I talk slow. Ice cold. “If there’s a third, you won’t survive it.” He’s holding himself so as not to show panic. I know he’s scared enough to shit.
I know because when he turns to run, he goes out on the landing and stumbles straight through the weakened balcony rail. Must have dropped thirty feet.
Tammi goes pale. I pull her shivering body close against my hard chest. Give her warmth. Strength.
“Shame to see a life wasted,” I tell her, “But I don’t think he’s a great loss.”
Russ’ voice crackles into my earbud again. “Garrison?”
“Yeah.” I have to fight to keep my voice level. “Sorry Russ.”
“You’d better come in.”
“I will.”
“Now, Garrison. Mikey wants words. He’s not happy.”
“Mikey? Mikey from the corps, that crook? What the fuck does he have to do with anything?”
“You didn’t know? He runs this team.” I’m feeling like my head’s gone into a tailspin. “He asked for you by name for this gig.” Something even worse, though, is the way the blood has drained from Tammi’s face leaving her pale and drawn.
I pull her to me as I tell Russ, “Okay, Russ. I’m on my way.”
He’s telling me, “Don’t delay,” as I cut the connection.
The sight of her in distress is more than I can take. “What is is, sweetheart?”
“Did… did you say ‘Mikey’? Are you talking about Mikey Cippiollino?”
I nod.
“Mikey is the man who I came to see.”
I didn’t like to think of her having anything at all to do with that crook.
“Why did you go to see Mikey, sweetheart?”
She pulls away. Shrinks back against the wall and turns her head down. Hides her face. I put my arm around her but she tries to shrug away.
I take a hold of her shoulder so she’s wrapped in a firm embrace. Cradled. I touch her jaw. Lift her chin. “You’re safe. You’re with me. Nothing is going to hurt you.” She looks so miserable it made me boil inside I want to find whoever hurt her like this. Run them down and beat them to putty.
A single tear bursts out of the corner of her eye. Rolls in a squiggling track down her cheek. She blinks. I know that is her trying to stop more tears from falling. She doesn’t want to appear weak. I love and respect her for it.
Knotting her hands together and looking down, she says, “My father owes money to Mikey.”
I nod. I want to let her talk. Once you start, it’s easier to keep going if nobody fills in the gaps.
“It’s a lot of money. Well, it’s a lot of money to him. And it’s a whole lot of money to me. I doubt I’ll make that much in my whole life.”
I nod again.
“I planned to see Mikey,” her bottom lip trembled. She looks up, her face is desolate. “Garrison, I can’t tell you.”
I don’t say anything. Just look steadily into her eyes and hold her firm. Keep her tight against me.
“Garrison, I was going to ask him…”
“No,” I cut her off and kiss the top of her head. “It’s okay. I understand.”
I tell her, “You’re very brave. You’re fantastically strong, and your father is amazingly lucky to have you. Whether he knows it or not.” I was wondering. Inside I’m boiling. A cheap hood like Mikey, putting my little princess into a situation like that. Preying on her family. I wanted to get in front of him and wring his neck
People like Mikey, I know how they operate. They don’t prowl the streets looking for vulnerable people to prey upon. People come to them. It’s amazing how people dig their own graves.
“Okay,” I tell her, “Come along with me.”
“Where are we going?” She looks up at me small. Frightened. But with a look that’s like admiration and trust. Fires up my heart to see it.
“I’m going to see Mikey,” I tell her, “And I’m taking you with me.”
She tries to pull away. I hold her. Gently. I turn to face her. Look directly at her. “I’ve got you now.” I held her shoulders. “Do you trust me?”
She nods. Slowly at first. Then quickly a second time.
“Nothing bad is going to happen to you, Tammi. Not ever again. I’ll protect you. You have my word.” I hold her shoulders look right in her eyes as I command her. “Believe me.” She straightens up. Her trembling steadies, at least.
When I get the two of us back to the warehouse, one of the helico
pters has left already. I’m guessing that means the candidate has gone. I’m making a mental note. If he’s doing deals with Mikey, then I know who not to vote for. Two huge curtains part, one either side.
Oversized, muscle-bound goons lead us down the narrow corridor to a big black door. One reaches for the door, the other reaches for Tammi.
I raise a hand and he reacts quickly enough before his finger touches her. I would have broken it off.
He’s likely twice my weight, nearly twice my size. He raises both hands, palms out.
“She stays outside.”
Chapter 8
Tammi
Garrison looks hard into the big man’s eye. Tells him, “She stays with me.” The power in his voice makes me squirm, hot.
The guard’s lips press together. He’s about to speak when Garrison tells him, “Check with Mikey if you want.” Then he lowers his voice to a growl. “If you make a mistake, it will be a big one.”
The guard blinks. After he thinks about it for a moment, he nods at the other guard. The door opens and we step into a large room that is mostly in darkness.
The two guards follow us in and shut the door. They stand with a line of guards at the back of the room. At the far end is a light from an overhead lamp. In the light, Mikey sits behind a wide desk in a huge leather armchair. In a black suit, with an immaculate white shirt, with jeweled cufflinks I can see the from the far end of the massive dark space.
It’s a long walk from the door to the desk. Garrison holds my hand. Mikey
“Well, well,” Mikey calls out. He steeples his fingers in front of his face.
“Garrison, as I live and breathe.” Then reaches for a big cigar. “Okay, there are a couple of reasons I need to see you. The skinhead, Garrison. He wasn’t supposed to survive that encounter. You know what I mean?”
