“I’m Iron Man.”
“Iron Man isn’t in the movie!”
“Oh?” I tease as I shove my boxers down and take my cock into my hand.
“Ohhhh,” she murmurs. “Wow.”
I smirk. “You like what you see?”
“It’s…I don’t…wow.”
“You already said that.”
“Jumpin’ jelly beans, I’ll say it again because it needs to be repeated!”
Chandler yaps and yaps.
“This isn’t for doggie eyes, Bingmeister,” I holler over my shoulder.
He growls but then his little toenails scratch along the tile floors as he scurries off.
“You sent my dog away,” she huffs in faux irritation.
“Princess dogs don’t need to see Oz porn.”
“Luca!”
“I’m protecting his virtue.”
“What about mine?” she mutters as I lay her down on the sofa.
I kiss her mouth as I settle between her spread thighs. Her cunt is slick with her arousal. Slowly, I tease her by rubbing against her opening with the tip of my dick.
“Maybe I’m the lion,” I say, “because I’m feeling pretty damn feral. Your virtue is the last thing on my mind right now.” I nip at her bottom lip, smiling.
“Mmm,” she moans. “What’s on your mind then?”
“Fucking beautiful you in your Dorothy shoes,” I say with a chuckle.
Her smile fades and her eyes flash with worry. “Will it hurt? Freaking?”
Freaking.
Adorable goddamn woman.
Growing serious, I shake my head at her. “Not if I can help it.” With our eyes locked together, I slowly inch into her. Out and then in, coating my cock with her juices, each press inside her taking me deeper. She’s tight as hell and I know it’s going to hurt no matter how slow I go.
I make a decision.
One hard thrust, stealing her innocence with one quick move.
Her mouth opens as she cries out, but I silence her with a deep, owning kiss. She’s mine. I can feel it down to my fucking toes. Life’s been cruel to me, but this, this is anything but cruel. This is a reward. Her nails scrape down my biceps, producing a burn that I know matches the one between her thighs. I slide out of her and then thrust again. This time, I slide home much easier.
Over and over and over.
Our tongues thrash and duel, desperate for the other.
I grip her breast and tweak her nipple before sliding my hand between us. She whimpers when I rub my finger against her sensitive clit. Her body clenches around my dick, making me see stars of pleasure.
“Luca,” she whimpers. “Oh…my…” She screams out God’s name when I bring her to ecstasy one more time. I’m maddened with the need to claim her that I almost don’t pull out in time. My nuts seize up, jetting cum out as I slip from her warmth, and I coat her red pussy with the evidence of my release. Slowly, I stroke my cock that’s soaked with her arousal as I drain every last drop, drizzling her cunt like icing on a sweet cherry roll. Fucking yum.
“Holy crap,” she breathes. “That was…”
“Fucking amazing?”
“I was going to say messy.”
I bark out a laugh. “Thanks, babe. Way to emasculate a man seconds after he’s just had the best sex of his life.”
“Best sex, huh?” she asks, arching a brow in a playful way.
“I’ll have to do it again in about twenty-seven minutes to be certain.”
“Twenty-seven minutes?” Her breasts jiggle as she laughs.
Fuck.
My dick jolts back to life.
“Better make that twenty-seven seconds.”
When she sees my cock, bobbing back to life, still dripping with my release, she shakes her head. “W-What? Again? I feel like you split me open. I need to recover.”
I give her a faux pout. “But your pussy is as magical as the red shoes you’re wearing.”
“There’s no place like home,” she whispers.
Pouncing on her, I kiss her mouth hard. She only whines for a second when I push into her again.
The beautiful, sweet, hilarious girl was right.
There’s no place like home.
And I’m about to get a fucking doormat that says “mine” and camp right at her feet.
Frannie
Eat Up, Little Joker. Then We Ride the Ride.
Yap, yap, yap…
Yap, yap, yap…
“Shut it or die, Bingo.” The rumble of Luca’s voice rouses me.
Yap, yap, yap…
Luca stirs and adjusts his grip around me to attempt a whack at Chandler. My growing smile transforms into a large yawn and I stretch my sore arms. Heat burns over my cheeks at thinking about why my muscles hurt. Sex. I had sex for the first time, with a sexy, amazing, wonderful con man, and I loved every single, messy, amazing moment of it. I replay the whole night, trying to remember all the IOUs I need to write. Replace Dorothy’s now-ripped dress. Thank God it was only a replica. Toto, since Chandler kind of ate him. Bad doggie. The Wizard of Oz blanket, which we horribly disgraced. Bad Luca.
I snuggle my face into the makeshift pillow, which reminds me of another IOU. Ruby red shoes, because those are coming with me. Replace hot air balloon basket, because when you’re propped up on it and making out heavily, it breaks. Every other inch of this place because Luca had me lip locked and hot and heavy up against, over, and under. Dear Lord. My cheeks could start a fire they’re so heated at the memories. I can’t even wait to tell Beatrice. She’s going to simply die!
“Mommy, why are those statues naked?”
“Bingo, I’m serious. You’re headed to the same fate as your rival, Toto.”
My ears perk at the unfamiliar sound. Definitely wasn’t the sweet little bark of Chandler. I swear it sounded more like…
My eyes shoot open.
Gee willikers!
Yap, yap, yap!
I pray my sight is playing tricks on me. I’m currently making eye contact with a young child along with a wide-eyed mother.
“Bif, I’m serious, zip it or—shit!” Luca shoots up, realizing too late he’s naked as the day he was born, and grabs a remaining shred of Toto, covering his man parts. I dart up, just as fast, grabbing for the Wizard of Oz blanket, but it causes Luca to stumble, dropping his patch. The child’s mouth falls to the ground, while the horrified mother throws her hands over her son’s eyes.
It seems after our all-night escapades we fell asleep in the yellow brick road window display.
“Oh God, Luca, what do we do?”
He snatches up his clothes, searching and throwing me Dorothy’s torn dress. “Private tour’s over, babe. Gotta go.” He hooks Chandler under his arm, just as his jaw bites down on the small leftover patch of Toto, and we both make our hasty, breezy escape.
We’re three hours into our trek to Colorado, still wearing our goofy grins. Maybe I’ll leave some of the details out when I spill to Beatrice. “I’m not sure I’ll ever get that terrified woman’s expression out of my head.”
Luca chuckles and squeezes my hand he’s been holding since we threw ourselves into the SUV and escaped, just like Bonnie and Clyde driving away from a bank robbery. “Imagine the poor woman having to explain the monster he was exposed to.”
I shake my head. My eyes roll, even though monster is dead on. I truly hope one day I walk normal again. He takes his eyes off the road. “Some things you can’t con, you know?” And winks at me.
My lips part and my mouth waters. Between my legs begins to pulse, even through the soreness. I inhale a deep breath to calm myself. “A little full of yourself, don’t ya think?” I try to mask my sudden need to want to play with said monster.
“We can pull over if you need another presentation.”
I finally lose my composure. My entire face blasts crimson. Thank goodness I see a sign, welcoming us into Colorado, and change the subject. “Oh look! Colorado! I wonder what the population is. You think mo
re or less than Kansas? California? Maybe in—”
Luca pats me on my thigh. “All right, squirrel girl, dropping the subject.”
I exhale. Thank God.
“But to answer your question, Colorado is a monster state. Really big. Hard on gun law—ouch.” He bends forward, laughing when I whack him in the stomach. “Geez, when did my girl get so violent?”
I open my mouth to reply, but my words get lodged in my throat at the way his head tilts to catch a look at me, accentuating his Adam’s apple. I have no idea when I became so violent, or bold, or carnal. But if I had to pinpoint the exact change, it would have started the moment I laid eyes on my sexy outlaw.
I blame the hopeless romantic in me, but I can’t control the roller-coaster of emotions I’m riding on. Every time he looks at me, touches me, I ache for more. A once unchartered territory for me. But now that I’ve gotten a taste of it, I want to explore every single outlet. Beg for him to touch me in ways I’ve only read about. The fierce heroine, bold and confident.
“Okay, spill. I can see your brain spinning.”
“What?” That’s not possible, right?
“What are you thinking, Frannie?”
That I love when you call me your girl. “I wonder what the state animal in Colorado is.”
“Rocky Mountain bighorn sheep. Spill it.”
You have the most beautiful eyes and I want this adventure to never end. “Wonder how often it snows here?”
Another low chuckle. “A lot. Now stop avoiding the real question.”
I wonder if you’ll ever think of me after you’ve saved your family and go off being wonderful while I’m imprisoned by God knows who, my only friend being a goat, and possibly the neighbor if he’s still alive when we— “Wait a minute!” That’s it!
“I am waiting. You keep stalling with weird questions.”
“No, I mean, wait… I know how we can find information on Mr. Death!” I grab his phone nesting in the cup holder and open the Google search app.
“Fran, I know you’re stuck on this idea, but he’s not Andy Garcia.”
I wave him off. That’s still to be determined. “Not what I’m searching for, but who. Mr. Death mentioned his neighbor, Gordon, remember? I don’t know why I didn’t think of it earlier, but what a rookie move! He gave us more vital information.” Remembering the conversation, I type in ‘Pesticide litigation, claim: harm to land, livestock, Plaintiff, Gordon’ in the search engine, my foot tapping on the floorboard while the wheel spins. One by one, links matching my keywords pop up. “Bingo.”
“What? Did you find something?”
“Yes! Listen to this.” I click on a link that leads me to the county website for California jurisdiction. “It’s a public complaint filed by a Gordon Eisenhower. It says his neighbor, name undisclosed, trespassed and stole his farming equipment. The items listed are Hydraulic Sprayer, tank, pump, and nozzles. This has to be him!”
Luca doesn’t look sold. “I don’t know. This all seems so farfetched. We’re talking a mob boss here. Assuming one who has connections to bad people and no fucking soul, since he kidnaps people for ransom.” I turn my raised brow on him. “Okay, moot point. You’re enjoying this kidnapping.”
I need to control the temperature in my cheeks. “Well, mister, I didn’t see you wanting to quit last night yourself. If I can remember correctly you told me you never wanted to leave my dripping wet—”
“All right, babe. You win. Let’s stay on track. Say this is him. And we just found this Gordon, what does that do for us? Besides prove he has it out for his neighbor?”
I copy Gordon’s full name and enter it into a new search engine. Immediately a Facebook link matching his name pops up. I click on it. An old stocky man, thick white hair matching his bushy white mustache. Gordon Eisenhower. I click on his photos and an abundance of pictures taken with him and his cat appear. One’s of them sitting in a rocker, one’s in the backyard feeding him treats, one’s—
“Oh my God! Look! It’s Juniper!” I shove the phone in Luca’s face, causing him to swerve.
“Jesus, woman!”
“Sorry. But do you see? It’s him! We found him!”
“Yeah, I see, as well as the car I almost sideswiped. It’s also just not matching up. A mobster who lives on a farm and raises goats? Come on. It doesn’t make sense. I feel like your intentions are good, but—”
“Look!” I screech, throwing the phone in his face again, and Luca slams on his brakes to avoid crashing into the car in front of us. “It is him! Look at the fence. It’s the same fence from the photo Mr. Death sent us with Cala!”
This time, Luca swerves to the right, causing a sleeping Chandler to slide off my lap. Avoiding two accidents, he pulls off to the side, throwing the car in park. “Give me that.” And he snatches the phone from my hands.
I sit with a winning smile on my face as he inspects the photo. “Say it. I’m a genius.” He doesn’t but keeps scrolling. “Three simple words, I’m a gen—”
“This is all so fucked up.”
“Wait, what? Why?”
I lean over and look at what he’s reading. One after another, crazy posts about his neighbor. All posts tag the profile name, Godfather_V. And no shocker his profile photo is the one and only, Andy Garcia.
Gordon Eisenhower: You’re going down @Godfather_V. No one be fooled by the goats! He’s a mobster! Stole my farming tools! Neighbors beware. He’s hiding something over there! #thief
Godfather_V: Those goats have eyes. They see what you do with that cat of yours. #sicko
Gordon Eisenhower: Keep my cat out of it, you maniac! Stay off my property! I know what’s going on over there! #mafiaaction
Godfather_V: I goat to tell you, you really need to get a better hashtag, you crazy old man. Sounds like you need more than just a kitty petting. Wanna borrow one of my goats?
Gordon Eisenhower: You’re sick! Keep those damn goats off my fence! I’ll shoot anything that trespasses! #goatfordinner
Godfather_V: I do love eating pussy myself. #challengeaccepted
On and on, his posts are meant just for this Godfather_V, the two of them going back and forth.
Gordon Eisenhower: I saw you last night @Godfather_V! If anyone in town goes missing, they’re buried in his backyard! We all have eyes and ears!
Godfather_V: Sure it wasn’t your cat I was burying? #meow
Gordon Eisenhower: Nice try. She’s sitting on my lap right now. You don’t scare me!
Godfather_V: Oh, I bet she is. Heard you both moaning all through the night. Really need to try out one of my goats. Give that poor cat’s ass a break.
Gordon Eisenhower: You’re sick! I’m calling the authorities on you! Let them know who you really are! I see all the nighttime action! Goat farmer my behind! #lies
Godfather_V: Do it. I bet they don’t find you when they come ringing your doorbell. #sixfeetunder
Gordon Eisenhower: My neighbor’s crops are growing because he has dead bodies buried under his fields! Anyone missing? Check @Godfather_V’s property!
Godfather_V: Thank your wife for my tasty tomatoes. Nice and juicy. Really easy to pluck. Just like she was.
Gordon Eisenhower: How dare you! Bertha was an amazing woman! And I know for a fact she isn’t buried in your crop field! She’s living with her sister in Ohio! #mobsterlies
Godfather_V: Oh yeah, that’s right because she left you for fucking your cat. Thanks for clarifying. #getsomerealpussy
Gordon Eisenhower: She didn’t leave me because of that! She left because she didn’t understand me and Sherley’s bond! No one does. Cats are beautiful specimens.
Godfather_V: Whatever you say. Wait, is that Sherley outside right now? Fucking my goat? #cheatingcat
“These are ridiculous. I’ve had enough. Click on his damn name. Let’s see if it’s Vincent’s page,” Luca grumbles and I press on the name, disappointed because I was quite entertained by them, but when I do, it takes us to a private Facebook account, requiring u
s to request his friendship to see his page.
“Should we friend request him?” I ask.
“No, we shouldn’t fucking friend request him. He’ll know we’re onto him.”
Good point. “Maybe we should friend request Gordon.”
He snatches the phone from my hand. “No, we shouldn’t. Listen, it can’t be the same person. The one we’re dealing with isn’t messing around here. He will hurt my family. He’s made it clear and at no time since they’ve been taken has he convinced me he won’t. He’s dangerous. Not a pretend mobster playing with goats and arguing on social media with his neighbor.” He’s lost any sort of laidback demeanor. In its place is annoyance. “Let it go, Jesus. Okay?” He stares at me until I nod in defeat, and he throws the car in drive and pulls back onto the small highway.
I want to turn to him and argue that it’s not safe for his family to be in the hands of this madman, but he plans on handing me over to him? I reroute my attention to the window and stare at the passing scenery, wondering who Mr. Death really is, and when he has me, if he’ll at least grant me some answers, before he buries me under his crops.
I must have dozed off because when I reawaken, we’re pulling up in a parking lot with tall rocks surrounding water. “Where are we?” I ask, scrubbing away the tiredness from my eyes.
“Small town outside of Denver. I don’t think we’re being followed, but I want to ditch the car. Think here’s a good place to scope one out.”
I sit up, taking in the scenery. Surely is beautiful. Chandler jumps up, his little paws against the window ledge enjoying the view, when we pull into an open spot. In front is a lake. “The sun’s about to go down. I bet this place is going to fill up with cars. Tons of people who want to hang by the beach and do bonfires. When it gets dark, we’ll swap and head out. It will be hours before they realize their car’s gone. Maybe not even until morning.”
I nod and bring my attention back to the lake. A few people are already setting up chairs and makeshift tables with coolers.
“Are you going to be okay here for a bit?” he asks. “I’m going to go scope out the scene.”
Conheartists Page 14