by B. B. Hamel
I was a patient man. Anyone would say that about me. I knew when to wait and I knew when to move. Sometimes, it was best to keep a low profile, like a spider creeping through the grass.
We fell into a rhythm at home. It was strange, having her around. I couldn’t get used to it at first. She was a foreign body in my atmosphere, burning me up inside. I felt her tug like gravity, and we orbited each other, moving from room to room but never staying in the same place for long. We barely spoke to each other, and when we did, it was in clipped sentences and always about domestic shit: more milk, clean dishes, laundry.
Then one night, during the start of the second week, she drifted downstairs and sat at the other end of the couch. She had on these shorts, these tiny little shorts that barely covered her ass and showed off those long, lean legs. She put her feet on the coffee table and watched TV with me—sports, or a movie, I couldn’t remember—and I kept staring at those legs. She was teasing me, tempting me, and we both knew it. But I kept my hands to myself, even if I wasn’t shy about looking.
That became a ritual. Not every night, but most nights she’d come in in this skimpy little outfit, sometimes low cut, sometimes skin tight, and we’d watch TV in silence. I’d spend the whole time picturing the filthy, delicious things I could do to her body, and she pretended like she didn’t notice me staring. It drove me wild and only made me want her even more.
She knew what she was doing. There was nothing subtle about it. She could feel the tension as much as I could, and she knew what it meant.
Even if she didn’t want to admit it, I knew my little Leigh was parading herself around the house at night to tempt me into doing something aggressive, something that crossed the line—something that felt damn good.
I kept control of myself. It wasn’t easy, but we had bigger shit to do than fuck each other senseless. I had to stay sharp like a monk in his cave meditating on the size of the universe. Except I was no monk, and I really wanted to meditate on the feeling of her slick pussy sliding down my rock hard shaft.
After the third week, I felt like I might explode. All that pent up energy from each night drove me wild, and I knew what she wanted, what she was thinking.
It was a Monday afternoon when I finally lost it.
I dropped her off that morning like usual. She smiled at me, blew me a kiss, and laughed when I caught it. She thought it was funny to fuck with me.
But around noon, a few hours later, I came back with a big black duffel bag. I parked out front and carried the bag inside slung over a shoulder.
“Hey, boss,” Sander said from behind his bullet proof coffin. “What you doin’ here?”
“Go take a break,” I said. “Close up for an hour.”
He frowned and hesitated. “Uh, you want me to leave? The girl’s still back there. You want—”
“Go get lunch for an hour, Sander.” I stared at him until he moved.
“You got it.”
I waited until he flipped the Open sign to Closed and disappeared down the block. I locked the door and headed toward the back. The sound of the TV drifted through the door and up the hall as I approached. She was watching a Friends rerun when I stepped into the room and caught her eye.
Surprise flicked across her face. Then her expression turned to confusion.
“What are you doing here?”
“Sander’s on break. We need to talk.” I dropped the bag on a table covered in dry goods. Toilet paper rolls leaned precariously to one side.
She sat up straight and muted the TV. “Okay, sure. What’s going on?”
I gestured at the bag. “We’re making some changes.”
“What kind of changes?” I heard the edge in her voice.
“This isn’t working. This whole wait and see thing, it’s not enough.”
Her eyebrow knit together. “I thought this was what you wanted.”
“It is, but plans change. I want to speed things along a little bit. Not too much, but just a nudge in the right direction.
She shifted in her seat. “Okay, right. What’s that mean then?”
I unzipped the duffel and opened it. I tilted it toward her so she could see inside. “We’re going to start selling again.”
Her jaw clenched. I knew she wouldn’t be happy about this, but she was even worse at hiding it than I expected. She leaned forward, hands on her knees, back rigid.
“Is that really a good idea?”
“Word needs to spread that you’re back in business. Leaving you in here and putting a few rumors out there’s fine, but it’s not enough. I need to be seen pushing product again and flaunting it in Clifton’s face, which means you need to start seeing customers.”
“So I’m your little drug whore then.”
I smirked and put the bag down. I couldn’t help myself. I liked the idea of her as my drug whore, although she meant it in a very different way than I pictured it.
“You’re my partner.” I walked toward her, head tilted to one side, hands rubbing together. “Remember you’re getting paid for every sale we make. You take a cut. That cash goes into your pocket.”
“And I’m the one hung out to dry when the Jackals come calling.”
I spread my hands then. “You were always bait, darling.”
“Still pisses me off.”
“When are you going to accept your role?”
“Probably never.” She looked away. “Remember that I never asked for any of this.”
“True enough.” I walked toward her then leaned forward placing one hand on the back of the couch. I loomed over her, getting close enough to smell the faint whiff of her shampoo. Lilacs and anise seed. “But here you are anyway. Very much a part of it.”
“So what? Playtime’s over? We get back to work?” She stared into my eyes and the way she said ‘playtime’ made my blood boil.
“Something like that.”
“And I can’t refuse, of course.”
“No, you can’t. You don’t get to sit here on your ass watching TV forever.”
Anger flashes across her face. Good, I wanted her to get mad. I wanted her pissed off and raging. Maybe she’d show a little life.
“That’s not what I’m doing.”
“Yeah? What are you doing then, little diamond?” I leaned closer, temptation swimming in my veins. I wanted to kiss her plump bottom lip and taste her tongue. I wanted to make her whisper my name.
“I’ve been helping Sander.”
“That’s not your real job.”
“I know that. But what else am I supposed to do?”
“Now you’re supposed to sell my drugs and make me some fucking money.”
There it was again. Another flash of anger. Deeper, hotter.
“Go to hell. Don’t talk to me that way.”
I reached out then. I grabbed her hair, make her gasp in surprise. I tightened my grip and pulled her close as I dropped down to my knees in front of her, forcing her legs open, pressing myself between them. I leaned my weight onto her body and stared into her eyes as I gripped her hair hard pulling at her thick, lovely strands.
“You forget your place sometimes. Maybe I’ve been too soft.”
Anger again. But tinged with fear.
“Let me go.”
“No. I don’t think so.”
“Owain.”
I leaned within inches of her mouth. Her lips hung open, her tongue ran over her white teeth. I felt her breath hot and quick on my mouth.
“Say my name again.”
Her mouth shut. Her jaw clenched.
“Go to hell.”
“Say it, Leigh. I want to hear you say it, then maybe I’ll let you go.”
“Owain.” It came out a snarl.
“Mm, I like that. I like when you whisper it. When you moan it.”
“I’m not moaning anything.”
“Not yet.” I leaned closer to whisper in her ear. “But you will.”
I kissed her neck. She took a sharp breath and I felt her hands grip my sho
ulders. I couldn’t tell if she wanted to push me away or pull me tighter. I had a feeling she didn’t know herself. I kissed her throat, moving closer along her chin, up along her cheek. Her lips parted again, trembled for me, red and gorgeous.
I couldn’t help myself. I wanted a feast, and there she was, just waiting to be tasted. So I kissed her, lips tight against hers, and she gave in to me. I felt her melt into it, I felt the tension leave her body in one great flood of emotion as her tongue slipped into my mouth and that moan—god, damn, that moan, the moan I’ve been waiting for so long—escaped her throat.
I bit her lower lip as her hands moved to wrap around my neck. I pulled her closer, tighter. Her body rolled against mine. It trembled, taut and tense like a bowstring. She quivered, vibrated. I felt my blood racing through my chest and every hammer of my heart sent another pulse of need up through my lips.
All those nights in front of the TV came back to me, all those nights staring at her body and pretending like I cared about some football game, some movie, some sitcom. All that desire shuffled inside of me and broke free in that instant, and my well-honed and sharpened patience shattered like a glass.
I pulled back and stared down at her. She stared back, mouth hanging open, chin tilted forward, eyes locked on mine. I released her hair and she let out a little gasp as I moved my hands down her body. I felt her hips, her breasts, and stopped at the button of her jeans.
She pushed her hips up toward me as I unzipped her and tugged them off. They came down and off, revealing black cotton panties. Simple, but somehow sensual, somehow fucking gorgeous. I spread her legs wide and moved back to stare at her. She looked angry, but she didn’t move, didn’t pull away or speak.
The moment teetered on the edge.
I knew it could go either way. It could break one way or the other. I could get up and leave her there soaking wet and moaning to herself, wishing I’d taken my desire. Or it could end up with her riding my cock until her skin broke out in sweat and her cheeks flushed red with pleasure.
One way or the other. A knife balanced on its blade. A die balanced on its corner.
Then I leaned forward and kissed her inner thigh. Her fingers twined through my hair and pulled hard. I grunted and smirked up at her and I knew which way it fell.
She pulled me up and my hand found her soaking pussy as I kissed her again. I teased her, moving up and down her panties before pushing them aside. Her slick spot was dripping down onto the couch as my fingers spread her wide and found her clit. Her hips rolled along with my rhythm as I teased her, slow at first, so agonizingly slow. I kiss her, bit her lip, made her moan into my mouth before pulling away and sinking my fingers deep inside her.
Her back arched. Her mouth hung open. “Owain,” she groaned.
That’s all I needed to hear.
I dropped down between her legs and shoved her panties aside again. I held them there as I licked her, lapping her up with a reckless and wild abandon. I sucked her clit and rolled my tongue around her hard little bud as her hips started to shimmy and pushed forward against my mouth. Her fingers found my hair again and her moans turned unintelligible as the pleasure mounted higher and higher.
I couldn’t stop. I needed her taste, needed her moans. All that tension, all that possibility blew up like a rocket between us. It was a rush of emotion and desire unlike anything I’d ever experienced before, full on nuclear pleasure, full of perfect taste. I sucked her faster, licking and rolling my tongue, listening to her moans and learning from her body. MY fingers slid inside and I kept going, faster, slower, faster again, harder, then softer, learning her moans, the way she said my name, the tone of her voice, the tension in her hips and thighs.
I read her like a book and I took her right to the edge, right up to that line where she was barely present in the world, so wrapped up in the pleasure racing along her spine and exploding in her skull, eyes rolled back and muscles tensed, legs and arms tight and fingers clutching at my hair, begging for the sweet release, begging and needing it but hoping it didn’t come, hoping she could ride that wave right there, just right there—
Her orgasm flowed through her body like sweet rain. Her back arched, spasmed, shook. Her legs tried to tense and close but I kept going. God, she was delicious, she was beautiful as she came on my tongue. It was one of the most perfect things I’d ever seen, the way her eyes rolled back, her chin tilted up toward the ceiling, my name on the tip of her tongue coming out between garbled moans, the way she shook and half laughed and half gasped, her breaths hitched in her chest. Her skin glowed and her cheeks were perfect and pink, and yes, god damn, yes, I was hard as hell and wanted nothing more than to press her down on the cushions and take her, right there, take every inch of her and use her for my own.
But that would ruin the moment.
Her orgasm finished in a slow cascade of relaxing muscles. She gasped and let out a breath, blinking fast like she was waking up from a dream. I ran my tongue top to bottom, tasting her, then pulled back and admired my handiwork.
She breathed hard, breasts rising and falling. Her panties were askew, her pussy pink and gorgeous. Her lips hung open, her eyes half-lidded.
She looked fucking perfect.
I kissed her and she returned that kiss with a surprising greed. I wanted her to taste herself on my lips and my tongue. I pulled back and slid a tongue into her moth. She sucked it, tongue rolling around my knuckle, eyes locked on mine.
I pulled it back and lingered there before standing.
“Good girl.” My voice dripped with husky desire.
She bit her lower lip and shimmied her hips as she fixed her soaked through panties and pulled her jeans back up. She buttoned them as I watched then tried her best to fix her hair.
“That was unexpected.”
“I think you’ve been expecting it for days.” I tilted my head. “I think you’ve been dreaming about it for weeks.”
She looked away. I couldn’t tell if that was shame or if she wanted to hide something else from me.
“I don’t think so.”
“Maybe.” I drifted to the door. It took all my energy not to push her for more, but I knew this was delicate. I knew I had to be careful. “But remember something.”
“Yeah? What’s that?” The edge was back in her voice.
“You work for me.”
Anger again. Rage, pure and hot. “Asshole. God damn, you’re such an asshole. You can’t let it go for a second.” She grabbed the remote, the thing closest to hand, and winged it at me.
I caught it out of the air and smiled at her. “Just don’t forget.”
I tossed the remote back and left the room.
Staying there would’ve been a bad idea. I was patient and normally I was controlled, but not with her and not right now.
Leigh, my little diamond, she was going to break me, or I was going to break her.
Either way, it was going to feel right.
12
Leigh
I didn’t speak to him in the car that night after he picked me up and I locked myself in my room when we got back to his place.
I felt like an angry teenager.
Didn’t matter though. I could hide at the center of the earth or on the moon—I’d still have him in my head.
His eyes looking at me as his tongue did its work. His smile as I came. The pleasure of the orgasm bursting through every inch of my body.
I’d never come like that before.
Never, not once.
It almost made me want to cry.
That bastard, that piece of shit, could get me off like that.
It wasn’t fair. It was fucked up. A man like that shouldn’t be able to make me feel so good, and yet his touch, his taste, everything about him drove me wild beyond anything I ever imagined before.
I hated it. I hate him for it, hated myself for wanting more.
He was arrogant. He thought he could do and say whatever I wanted and I’d still be his for the taking.
&nb
sp; The worst part was—I knew he was right.
If he said stand, I’d stand. If he said strip, I’d take it all off. If he said get down on my knees and lick his cock top to bottom, I’d suck him so hard my lips would burn blue then I’d swallow his every drop.
The thought drove me fucking crazy.
I took a cold shower and went to bed early. I hoped I wouldn’t dream about him, but of course I did. It was fuzzy and technicolor like all my dreams but it was him, it was Owain, kissing my body, making me scream with pleasure.
The monster in my closet, the beast under my bed.
In the morning I made coffee and eggs. He came down and we ate without a word at the kitchen table. I didn’t meet his eye and he didn’t seem interested in engaging me. Fine, whatever, fair enough. I guess he had his taste and he was finished.
He took me back to the bodega and dropped me off.
“Don’t forget the product,” he said. “You’ll have customers again.”
I nodded once and stared out the window. “How will I know?”
“They’ll ask Sander for the daily special. Then he’ll send them back to you. All you need to do is take their money and give them a single bottle. None of them will be allowed more than one.”
“Understood.”
“Good.” He leaned toward me. For a split second, I thought he might try and kiss me. Instead, he only smiled. “Have a nice morning, darling. I’ll be thinking about your lips on my tongue all day.”
I felt a flush of desire and anger in equal measure. I didn’t respond as I pushed open the door and stomped into the store.
“Morning, Leigh.” Sander grinned at me from behind the counter. “I hear our arrangement changes today.”
I softened a little bit and nodded. “So he says.”
“You up for it? The, uh, you know. The guys and stuff.”
“It’s fine.” I gave him a smile and tried to put him at ease. He didn’t need to worry about me. “Mind if I get coffee?”
“Help yourself.” He gestured to the ancient industrial coffee machine sitting on the counter to his right. I walked over and filled a to-go cup. It looked like trash, but I knew Sander took coffee seriously and only used the best stuff. I had a feeling he took a loss on it every day, but he didn’t seem to mind.