Keep It Classy

by Vale, Lani Lynn

  I watched as she moved backward, then stepped up onto the couch and slowly lowered herself down into reverse cowgirl position.

  “When I take your cock,” she said as she grabbed it between my legs and positioned it at my entrance. “I want you to sink your finger into my ass at the same time.”

  Yep. Surely I was going to burst the moment that she started.

  “Condom,” I found myself croaking out.

  She froze with just the tip against her entrance, and then looked back over her shoulder at me.

  “I don’t have one,” she murmured. “You have any in your wallet?”

  I shook my head. “No.”

  She sank down over my cock just the slightest bit, just enough that I could feel the fire of her, and I lost a few brain cells in the process.

  “You’ll tell me when you’re close, and then you can pull out?” she asked.

  I found myself nodding, even though I knew that was a bad idea.

  Stupid.

  That was how babies were made.

  Yet did that stop me from saying, “Sink those hips down a little bit more, baby?”

  No.

  No, it did not.

  “But beware,” I said as she did as I asked. “This is a really stupid idea.”

  She snorted out a laugh. “Oh, I know.”

  Well, as long as we were both on the same page.

  I brought my still wet fingers back to her pussy and swept them through her lips, parting then just a little bit more to ease the way for my entrance.

  It also served to lubricate my finger all over again.

  Swirling my finger once more through and around her entrance and my tunneling cock, I swept my finger backward and swirled it around her back hole.

  She pulled away only to come back moments later, taking my cock deeper as well as pushing down harder on my finger, letting me know without words for me to do more.

  Everything felt like it was on fire.

  My cock as it was pushing inside of her. My finger as it pressed just a little bit harder—hard enough to finally push past the ring of muscle until just the tip popped in.

  Hell, my heart even felt like it was on fire.

  I wanted her to fuck me so badly that I was panting.

  “Take me,” I pleaded. “God.”

  “Yes, sir,” she teased, then pulled back up.

  I groaned.

  But then she followed that rise with a fall. And what a fall it was.

  She took me all at once—the rest that was left—and I could no longer think. Could only feel.

  And oh yeah, my finger was now lodged deep in her ass, and that felt like it was on fire, too.

  She felt silky and smooth as well as tight.

  I couldn’t wait to bury my cock into her ass, too.

  “So tight,” she breathed. “Holy shit.”

  I put my free hand on her ass and squeezed, loving the give of it as I did. “Move.”

  She did, and I timed my finger’s movements with hers.

  It didn’t take long.

  With all the buildup, as well as how hot I was for her, I felt my balls drawing up within seconds of her beginning to move.

  But, surprising the hell out of me, because I thought surely I was going to blow it, Turner came first.

  Long. Loud. Earth shattering.

  There was a boom in my ears, and I allowed myself to come. To let go even though I was going to go regardless.

  Agony and ecstasy dueling for supremacy raced down my spine. Everything felt so good at the same time it felt so bad.

  I removed my finger from her ass to hold onto her hips, slamming her down so hard over me that I knew I might be hurting her. Yet I couldn’t find it in me to stop. Couldn’t. Wouldn’t.

  My eyes closed, and my hearing picked up something that probably shouldn’t have been there, yet at first, I wasn’t able to comprehend that.

  Wasn’t able to comprehend anything but the spurting of my cock as I filled her with everything I had to give.

  And finally, when my head was back online enough to look around, I realized that there was smoke in the RV.

  Smoke?

  “Shit,” I said, dislodging Turner before she was ready.

  “Castiel, hey! What the hell?” She paused from her position on the couch, then took a look around. “What the fuck?”

  I shook my head and reached for my pants, pulling them up over my hips and buttoning them.

  Cursing myself for not bringing my shoes, I went to the door of the RV and pushed, only to wrench my hand away.

  It was hot.

  Why the fuck was it hot?

  I chanced a push of the fancy-ass blinds to the right of the door handle and realized true horror.

  “The side of the RV is on fire,” I said. “The small little porch, and the entire side. The flames are licking up over the door to the roof.”

  Turner arrived at my side fully dressed.

  “There’s a back door,” she murmured. “In the bedroom.”

  Which was only a few feet away from the stupid front door.

  But I’d give it a try.

  When we got in there, however, that one was spread over with fire as well.

  “What the hell?” I asked as I went back into the living room.

  My first order of business was to try the windows.

  However, despite their fanciness, none of them opened enough for an adult to get through, and I felt my belly sink.

  Walking to the bedroom, I grabbed a rag from the shelf where she kept the laundry, then walked to the door.

  Turner wasn’t far behind, and she watched with trepidation as I used the rag as a pot holder to open the door.

  When I did manage to get it open, I got a bullet to the right arm for my troubles.

  I fell back against the bed and looked at the bullet hole with surprise.

  It was in my bicep, through and through.

  I blinked stupidly, confused as fuck, only to be hauled so hard and fast away from the door by Turner that I was surprised all over again.

  “Someone’s shooting at you!” she cried out. “What the fuck?”

  What the fuck was right.

  Finally managing to get my head back together enough to realize what was going on, I scrambled to the side. Which happened to be just in time because whoever was outside got impatient with no longer having a target to aim at.

  He started peppering the side of the RV with bullets.

  Fragments of particle board, fiberglass, and wood started blowing outward through the bullet holes, as well as the bullets themselves.

  Scrambling even faster, I took her as far away as I could in the space allotted to us, stopping underneath the table on the very far wall.

  My heart was pounding, and poor Turner, who’d been dragged right along with me, was looking scared out of her mind.

  I couldn’t blame her.

  Terror was running through my blood at an alarming rate, and I couldn’t force myself to get under control because there was no control left.

  I was fucking scared.

  For her.

  For me, too.

  Because if I lost her, I realized right then, I’d be lost.

  She’d become a very integral part of my life, and without her, I’d be a broken husk of a man all over again—this time even worse than before.

  “What do we do?” she asked, coughing lightly.

  I put my hand on the bench seat of the built-in booth surrounding the table and felt it shift.

  I pushed it again, making it shift for a second time.

  Then I completely peeled it off its perch and tossed it across the room.

  The only thing in there was canned goods, which I shoved all the way to the side and looked further into the crevice.

  “This leads to the outside, right?” I asked. “The outdoor kitchen?”

  She nodded, eyes wide.

 
Then they went electric.

  “You want to crawl through there to the outside?” she guessed.

  I nodded. “I do.”

  “Let’s do it.” She scrambled up and started going for it. “I can open it and look…”

  “I don’t think so,” I said. “If anyone is getting shot, it’s me.”

  Her face showed every ounce of what she was feeling right then.

  “I love you, too,” I told her.

  Then I pushed ahead of her, past the cans, and tunneled underneath the RV to the narrow door that was on the outside of the RV. It was a passageway that allowed you to get food out of the kitchen without actually going all the way into the kitchen.

  It was a genius thing to put in, and right now, I was thanking my lucky stars that it was there.

  I was thanking everything else when I pushed the door all the way open and I didn’t get a bullet to the face for my troubles.

  I continued to crawl using my elbows, then fell head first onto the ground and stayed there, silently, as I listened to my surroundings.

  Nothing.

  Whoever had shot me was camped out on the other side of the RV, and as I looked at the fire lighting up the night sky, I realized that the fire wasn’t only delegated to the RV. My house was on fire, too.

  I leaned upward, doing an ab curl, and whispered into the small space. “Come out, baby.”

  She did moments later, but I didn’t let her hit the ground like I did.

  Despite my screaming shoulder, which I could feel blood dripping down at a fast clip, I hauled her to her feet.

  “We’re gonna run that way.” I pointed to the woods. “I don’t have a phone…”

  She held hers up. “I do.”

  I nodded once. “We’re going to the woods.”

  And we did, going as far into the woods as we could seeing as the farther we got from the flames, the less we could see.

  “Call 9-1-1,” I ordered. “Tell them the address, then…”

  More gunshots filled the air, and seconds later, I heard a man’s voice saying, “Put your hands in the air.”

  Raised voices. More yells.

  Then, one more gunshot.

  Silence.

  I looked over at Turner, whose face was illuminated by the phone screen, and said, “Easton.”

  Then I passed out.

  ***

  I woke up as I was jostled.

  My eyes peeled open, and I glanced at the white walls that surrounded me.

  I was in an ambulance.

  I could hear Turner’s reassuring voice as she spoke to someone explaining what happened, and I turned my head in the direction that I heard her voice.

  She was sitting on the bench seat next to my side, with Easton nodding his head as he listened to her.

  “I figured something out,” he answered her question that I must’ve missed. “I remembered Castiel talking about a man that he always saw around you. I inputted his description into a few of the videos that we had from around town and then ran his face through the system. Facial recognition software put him as a Craig Minns.”

  I closed my eyes as a poke at my shoulder had me seeing stars.

  “Craig Minns that has a hotel room in town. Craig Minns that rented a slip at the campgrounds, though far away from where he was always seen next to you,” Easton continued. “Craig Minns who, from what I found out last night, is responsible for hiring you for your latest subtitle for your, erm, work you were just working on. The comedic one?”

  I heard Turner’s husky laugh, and it made me smile.

  “I’m thinking that when I get into the man’s computer, he’ll also be linked to the Craig Matthews that has been linked to the girls he meets in private chats and then terrorizes them for months before killing them,” Easton said quietly.

  And it all started to make sense.

  All of it.

  Except for the part where he found Turner.

  “Why Turner?” I questioned.

  Opening my eyes, it was to find both of them staring at me with a look of relief.

  “I don’t know,” he murmured. “But I plan to find out. Just have to do a little paperwork for shooting a guy in the head first.”

  I found myself grinning.

  “Never know all of it now, though,” I pointed out.

  Easton shrugged.

  “I like my melon just the way it is.” He shrugged. “He was pointing a rifle at my forehead. It was him or me, and I’ll always choose me.”

  I liked him.

  “Thanks, man.”

  Then the medic at my side pressed gauze to my wound, and I felt my face leech of heat as agony shot through me.

  Everything else they said was lost on me as I tried to work through the nausea.

  Then Turner’s hand squeezed mine, and everything was just a little bit better.

  Chapter 21

  I’m sorry I’m so cranky. I’m just in my terrible 30s right now.

  -Castiel’s secret thoughts

  Castiel

  Hours later, after our hospital visit and subsequent treatment for minor burns, smoke inhalation, and a broken arm as well as gunshot wound for me, and finally boarding of a very pissed off cat, we were laying in a bed at Liner’s house.

  Liner had arrived at the hospital late, a pissed off expression written all over his face, and no excuse as to why he was late. Only worry written on his face.

  After declaring we’d come home with him, we had, which ended with us in his spare guest bedroom talking quietly as not to wake him.

  “What had you scowling when you came in the RV earlier?” she asked, pressing an absent kiss to my pectoral.

  It was only five hours ago, but it felt like a lifetime. Like it’d happened in another life, even.

  I leaned over the bed for my pants that were on the floor, then pulled my phone out of my pocket before returning to my previous position.

  My phone’s screen was broken, but despite that, it was okay. I was lucky it hadn’t sustained water damage like the rest of my things had as the firefighters put out the fire on the RV as well as my cabin.

  “There was a dog that was found on the highway,” I answered. “They forced me to take a picture with it because it wouldn’t hold fucking still. And I wasn’t happy about it.”

  She looked at the photo under question, then leaned over and got her phone off the night table.

  Seconds later, she was laughing her ass off.

  “Oh, Castiel.” She giggled, swinging her phone around to show me. “Your police department shared your photo all right.”

  ***

  Four hours later, my photo had been shared seventeen thousand, four hundred, and three times. There were over ten thousand comments, and so many likes that it really would’ve been awesome had I not been the one that the majority of the comments were about.

  “Would y’all shut the fuck up about my stupid picture already?” I grumbled tiredly.

  “Just look at the bright side,” my club brother, Zee, said. “At least they found the dog’s owner.”

  That was true…I guess.

  The dog’s owner, a pretty little Coke bottle blonde, had come to the station during the time that Turner and I were there giving our statement on Craig Minns.

  At first, we’d thought that she was just like the other two crazy ladies who’d arrived saying they’d been ‘bad,’ but then she’d started crying as she babbled about her missing dog, and hadn’t said a word about me.

  The deciding factor that she was, indeed, the dog’s owner had been when I’d come out with the dog and she’d not taken a single look at me. She’d buried her face into the scruff of the dog’s neck and burst into tears.

  “You awake, big boy?” Turner asked.

  I blinked open my eyes and saw that she was leaning over me, looking at me with worry all over her face.

  “Y’all are so cute together,” Jubilee chirped from acro
ss the room. “But we gotta go. We just came over to bring y’all some dinner. Plus, I’m fielding calls left and right from the media asking if we’re taking ownership of the dead body that was previously known as Craig Minns, the famous Redhub pornstar film guy that was now worth millions. I think they’re madder that he won’t be making movies than the fact that he tried to kill my best friend and her man. I’m seriously about to lose my shit.”

  Zee put his hand on his wife’s head. “Let’s go, baby.”

  Jubilee sighed and looked first at me, then at Turner. “Y’all will call if you need anything.”

  A statement, not a question.

  Turner sighed. “Yes, I will.”

  “Good.” She narrowed her eyes, then contemplated what she was going to say next. “I have your mother’s remains at the funeral home. I was going to give you them yesterday, but I ran out of time. Do y’all want to come get them? Or would you like me to bring them to you?”

  Turner stiffened. “Hold on to them at your place until we can figure out where we’re going to take her.”

  Jubilee nodded her head. “I can do that. Y’all take care of each other.”

  Then they were gone, leaving me looking up at my woman who was once again looking down at me with concern. “Is your arm okay?”

  I shook my head.

  It was on fire, but I wouldn’t be telling her that.

  “Your parents called again.” She yawned as she looked over at me before gingerly sitting on the corner of the couch next to my head. “I talked to them.”

  I scowled. “Why?” I paused. “And why are my eyes so fuckin’ heavy?”

  She grinned. “First question, because I wanted to. They were worried about you. Second question, because you were in pain, so I ground up a pain pill and put it into the beer you insisted on having last night before bed.”

  I growled. “That wasn’t fair. I wanted to have my faculties about me.”

  She shrugged unrepentantly.

  Then sobered.

  “Your parents want to come over here, and I said they could,” she muttered.

  I narrowed my eyes. “That wasn’t smart.”

  “They were concerned,” she explained. “And not just about you. About me, too. They’ll be here any…” The doorbell rang. “Second.”

  Liner appeared out of nowhere, opened the door in the other room, and then disappeared all over again.