by Aven Jayce
“Do you buy your weed from them?” She takes a bite of pasta and dabs the corners of her mouth with her napkin, trying not to smudge her lipstick.
I nod. “I have some waiting for me when we leave. I was running low after such a stressful week. My supply usually lasts twice as long as this one did.”
Her fingers twirl the silver and jade gemstone necklace that’s around her neck. It’s in the shape of a heart and casts a green tint on the flesh under her chin. Earrings and a ring match the necklace, cluing me in to the fact that she prepped for this as much as I did. I can’t wait to see what’s under her dress.
“My mother made them.” She takes a drink of wine then puts her fingers back on the necklace. “I saw you eyeing my jewelry. My mother made this set for my twenty-first birthday. She sells her pieces at some of the downtown galleries. It’s a hobby for her, but I could see her doing it full-time. She’s good.”
I’m nervous now. I have a box... a special gift waiting for her in my pocket, only it may not be as meaningful to her as her mother’s jewelry, and she won’t be able to wear my present around her neck.
“The set’s unique.”
“She gets custom orders and tries to personalize the stone with the person she’s making each piece for. This one,” she takes the heart in her hand, “she said could be worn to attract love, but it would also provide me with balance and peace.”
Yeah, I might hold out entirely on my gift. No, screw that. This is our night. I can do this.
“Sounds like the two of you have a decent relationship. I couldn’t imagine my mother making something for Sophia or me.”
“We’ve always been close. She’s the type of mother who was very supportive, until she couldn’t be anymore.”
“Meaning?”
“Meaning you can’t rely on your parents forever. It killed her that I was living in my car, but we both knew if she pulled me out of the situation I might come to rely on her whenever I was in need. There’s an age when you have to break free and when your parents should cut the cord. It was time.”
“But...” I start to reply, leaning back in my chair and adjusting my tie then feeling the box inside my pocket. No, not yet. “But... I pulled you out of the situation. Should I have left you in the car to sleep in thirty-degree weather, in pitch-black parking lots with a steak knife for protection at your feet? I disagree with your logic. Would you do that to your daughter?”
“Would you? Think of your son when he’s twenty-two. Would you?”
My son knows karate, and at twenty-two with a sword collection, I can’t imagine anyone’s going to want to fuck with him. He’d be just fine living in his car. “Jack’s a rebel.”
“So am I,” she says.
She’s right and I’m sure her mother recognizes how strong she is. Most parents know what they’re doing.
“Still, there’s no way I could’ve left you alone in your car that night. It would’ve been wrong to walk away.”
She smiles with flushed cheeks as I replenish our wine.
“But, if you weren’t so fucking gorgeous, I probably would’ve fucked you then left you there.”
She kicks my leg, now with an even deeper shade of red on her cheeks. I’m on a roll tonight.
“You bastard.”
Maybe not.
“You can ask my mother her reasoning when you meet her.”
“Uh.” I nearly choke. “No.”
“She won’t mind.”
“I mean I’m not meeting your parents. They’d have a shit fit that we’re together. We must be close in age.”
“No, they’re forty-five.”
“Yeah, I’m in my late thirties.”
“But you don’t act like it. You seem more like someone my age, or younger.”
“That’s not a compliment, Jules.”
She laughs, obviously fucking with my head. “Is that a text?” she asks looking at my watch. I check the screen and see a message from my son.
Still no card. No money. You suck!
I exhale. Fuck, I did forget to mail it out again.
“Who is it?”
“My son. He’s just saying hi.” I put the text out of mind. I’ll call him back as soon as I get a chance. Maybe tomorrow.
“So tell me, Julia Alison Barringer, what are your plans?”
“Like what? Tonight?” She finishes her pasta and cleans the sauce from her plate using a slice of bread like it’s a sponge. I’ve never seen a woman eat as much as her.
“Not tonight, in the future, say five years from now?”
“Well, I’d be in heaven if I had my own salon, but five years is pushing that dream, especially considering I’m broke, so maybe ten... when I’m in my thirties. That would be nice.” She sips her wine and smiles at the view then back at me. Her tongue licks the red liquid off her top lip and she swirls the glass before taking another drink. I can help her make that dream come true. “Mark, I know we’re still in the beginning stages of this relationship, and I don’t want to scare you off, but perhaps we’ll still be together. I could see myself being happy with you for quite some time.”
My fingers fiddle with her gift. I’m quiet, waiting and wanting to hear more. My heart pounds with anticipation, harder than it’s ever beat in the past. Fiercer than when I kill and faster than when I fuck.
“But,” she places her warm hand over mine, “only if you allow me to have some control in this relationship. I won’t stick around if you don’t. You can restrain me when we play, other than that, we need to share the power or this will never work. I’ll try not to dominate you, if you do the same for me.”
Hell... her touch... those warm eyes... her soft voice and the strength of her words; I’ve been waiting for a woman like her my whole life.
I look down at the black box and place it slowly on the table. Her eyes widen as my fingers tap the top. A moment later, I slide it forward while holding my breath. Here we go.
“Mark?” she whispers, placing her elbows on the table and covering her mouth with two hands. She gazes at the velvet-covered gift, then at me.
I lean back and swallow hard. “Open it.”
She doesn’t. The candles flicker, the lift reaches the top of the mountain and stops, the darkness of the night surrounds us, but she doesn’t move.
“Jules,” I whisper. “I’m fine with us sharing the power. Believe me when I say I want you by my side. This is the most meaningful and heartfelt gift I’ve ever bought for a woman. Please, open it... be with me.”
She touches the box with shaky hands then finally flips open the lid and smiles from ear to ear. “Beautiful,” she says softly. “So beautiful.”
Oh thank fuck.
Her eyes well with tears as she holds the Handmade Coltellerie Berti Italian Pocket Knife, a romantic offering, and a blade that was most commonly exchanged between a couple as a symbol of their engagement. Better than a fucking ring. I’m not going to tell her the significance; I’ll wait for her to figure it out on her own. What she does know is it’s a gift of devotion, and that’s enough.
It has a black handle decorated with a white pattern and a four-inch blade engraved with entwined hearts. Her fingers run along the sharp edge, stopping when she sees her initials.
“I can’t think of a more ideal trio of letters to be etched into my lover’s blade,” I say.
“JAB,” she whispers. “It’s stunning, Mark.” She holds it next to the candle appreciative of the craftsmanship. I’m glad she approves, it’s more expensive than any knife I’ve ever bought for my own collection.
“I love you,” she says, still studying the heart design, entirely uninterested in a verbal response. The Berti says it all.
I move to her side, placing my hand on her shoulder and kissing her neck. “What are you thinking about?” I whisper in her ear.
She turns to me and runs her hand down the side of my face, stopping under my chin. I’ll wait to kiss her lips until she answers my question.
“Is this
something you want me to use?” she asks.
“What you do with it is your choice, not mine.”
She looks back at the knife and nods then surges out of her chair, nearly tackling me to the ground. Our lips explode, and I rush to undress.
“I was hoping you’d do that,” I pant, stripping out of my pants and ready to fuck. My jacket lands on the floor, and then my gun, holster, tie, shirt, her dress... shit.
“Fuck, you’re remarkable.” She’s wearing thigh highs and a black garter with lace underwear. “Fuck,” I say again.
She grins at my reaction then reaches back to the table and takes the knife in her hand, driving me wild. I can’t believe it... she runs the blade between her cleavage and with a quick jut forward, her bra is cut, releasing her tits.
With my cock in hand, I rub the pre-cum around my tip, showing her I’m ready. She places a finger in the air and motions in a scolding manner to not rush things. That’s okay. I can wait.
The knife moves playfully down her stomach and disappears under her thong. When it comes back into sight, the lace garment is cut and on the floor.
“You’re gorgeous,” I whisper, looking over her youthful body. “Tell me what you need. This is your night.”
“Our night,” she whispers. “And what I need is you. I want us both to cum in the sky, hovering over these mountains. Can you do that for me?”
“Anything.”
She stands before me, inches away, and I close my eyes.
“Touch me with it,” I request.
The knife glides along my flesh, tracing my heart before moving up to my neck. I lift my chin, becoming even more stimulated by her tease. It runs along my jawline, down my abs, then back to my heart where she presses the tip against my flesh.
I offer myself to her, standing feet apart with my hands behind my back and my head bowed. She inhales... and the blade pierces my flesh; a small cut over my heart. I open my eyes and we both watch the drop of blood run down my chest. The deep red, warm release is my reward for the evening, and it’s spectacular.
With my head still down, I raise my eyes to share my best menacing leer. “Take out your tampon and get ready to fuck,” I command.
A moment later her back is pressed against the window and my cock is pleading to be inside her pussy. Our bodies ache to unite, but there’s no movement. Not yet. I want to look at her before we begin. I’m overwhelmed by her first cut, her first draw of blood... it was for me. I gave her the power of the blade and she shared it, now all I want is to marvel at her gleaming face, showing respect and devotion to her and our relationship.
“Thank you,” she whispers. “For everything.”
“You’re adored.” I grin, caressing the side of her face. My head tilts and our lips meet, a soft touch to set her off, then pressing harder and sliding my tongue along hers to encourage an outburst of groans. Success.
She clings to me, her legs squeezing my torso like an octopus seizing its prey. I bend my knees and grab her ass, lifting her onto my dick.
“Uh,” I exhale into her ear. My two fingers raise her chin so she can see my eyes when I speak. “You’re the first woman I’ve ever lusted for and the only one who’s given me comfort. You put me at ease and pacify my heart.”
“Mark,” she whispers.
Our temples are locked, side-by-side as I stare through the window at the distant lights from the downtown district. Her fingertips stroke my neck and my hips thrust. Hard and fast I work my cock into her, kissing her shoulder and gripping her tits. My blood coats her chest. Her blood coats my dick. It’s an impeccable fuck, only not rough enough for my liking.
My cock becomes cruel, digging into her with long and forceful drives.
“Talk to me,” I demand. “Tell me what to do.”
“Put your fingers over my clit,” she huffs with her hands in my hair. “Can you feel how wet my pussy is?”
I moan with delight.
“Fuck me. Fuck me, Mark. Fuck me with your long stiff cock.”
“Jesus.” I bite her flesh while my free hand slides under her garter.
“Yes... give me that cock.”
“Oh, my god,” I pant and throw my head back. “That’s it, Jules. Get nasty.”
“Fuck me. Press harder.”
My fingers work her clit. Fluttering across the engorged flesh, circling it, moving faster, until...
“Yeah, right there. Right...”
“Yes. Cum for me.”
“Fuck!” she shouts. Our chests slide and my balls smack into her aroused flesh. Slamming. Pounding. Wanting more. Needing to hear her cum. She pulls me closer and speaks faintly. “Give it to me. Give it... give it.” She fades and her legs tremble around my waist. “Don’t stop.” Her eyes glaze over. “Ah.” A high-pitched sound escapes her mouth, then another and another. “Ah, ah, ah.”
“Let yourself go, beautiful.” My hand moves from her garter and wraps playfully around her neck. “Disappear into that sensual world. Escape.”
My chest is clawed the instant her vibrating pussy lays siege to my cock.
“Yes,” I whisper. Her body is an earthquake swallowing me whole. I’m disappearing inside of her. Following her. Being led by her seducing, beating muscles. “Yes,” I say again. “Own it.”
My tongue runs along her lips in a slow and suggestive manner. My dick was ready. I was ready. But I wanted her to relish this moment as her own. But now... now I can cum.
I hold her tightly, turning us around so she can look over the city while we fuck. I notice the tiny lights reflected in her eyes as she watches in bliss.
“I love the way your cock feels inside of me.”
I close my eyes and listen, knowing every word from her mouth is significant.
“Can you hear us?” she whispers. “Listen... listen to our bodies and our heavy breaths.”
“Uh.”
“Keep fucking me.” She wraps her arms over my shoulders. “Your cock’s so hard... grab me, Mark. Pull me closer. Cum inside of me.”
“I’m close.”
“Fuck me with that big cock and fill me.”
“Oh fuck,” I pant. “Fuck, my dick becomes a giant when you talk like a dirty slut.”
Her hand slides down my chest around to my ass... then... her finger sneaks inside.
“What do you think you’re doing?”
“Fucking you.” She grins.
I grasp the back of her sweaty neck and our heads connect. “Holy fuck!” I yell. My dick’s gonna burst. I love her finger in my ass. Another quick jolt... one more thrust. One more. One more. “I’m cumming.” Our eyes meet. “I’m cumming,” I growl, clenching her finger. “Fuck! Don’t pull out. Don’t!”
“That’s my man.”
My cock heaves cum into her pussy. Shot after shot. And then I call out, “I surrender,” like a blithering idiot when her finger slides another inch inside. “You have all the power.”
Standing on my tiptoes with tense legs, narrow vision, and a constricted heart, the only sounds left to escape are, “uh, ah, and oh.”
“We both have the power,” she whispers. “We’re one.”
I collapse onto the floor and she falls on top of me, both of us consumed by deep breathing and aching legs.
“Shit, that was good,” I wheeze, in a daze.
“Everything was.”
“I can’t believe I just came and I still want you.”
She laughs. “That’s telling.”
“I guess so... I’m dizzy... hell... let’s fuck like that again sometime, like tomorrow.” I grin. “By the way, is your ass healed?”
“It’s much better, thanks for asking.” She takes a napkin from the table and wipes my dick.
“Oh, don’t do that. Someone’s going to wipe his mouth on it.”
“Yeah, after it’s washed.” She shakes her head. “And since when do you care?”
“Trust me, I care about cleanliness. My hotel sheets are laundered after every guest, not every third guest like mo
st hotels.”
“Hotels really do that?”
I nod and look at my watch. “Oh crap.” I sit up. “We need to get dressed before we’re putting on a show for some resort worker. We’ve got about five minutes left. Time flies when you’re fucking in the air.”
She places her cut underwear in her purse and reaches for her dress. “Do you think people saw us?”
“No. We were too high and the lift is dark.”
“So are you about to explode from all of this?” She motions around the space. “You’ve been so kind, but this must be shrinking your balls to the size of a pea.”
“I can’t answer that because my balls have been missing for weeks.” I smile, buttoning my shirt. “Come closer.” I pull her by my side, fixing her wandering strands of hair. “You happy?”
“I’m happy, Mark.”
“For how long?”
She laughs, even though it was a serious question. I let it go for now while I fix my hair and straighten my tie.
She’s dressed and tucking her Berti into the box it was gifted in. I’m sort of jealous that I don’t own such an attractive knife.
“There’s no reason to touch my weapons now that you have your own.”
She nods. “Can I ask you something and get a truthful answer?”
“No,” I say, tying my shoes. “It depends on the question. What?”
“Are you the one who killed Roland?”
I stand and sigh, hovering over her, unsure why she needs to hear me say it. “You already know.”
She looks down as if she’s thinking and then asks quietly, “Would you kill for me again?”
“When necessary, yes. For the right reason.”
“What if Roland never hurt me? Would you have killed him anyway, if I had asked?”
“What?”
“Just answer the question.”
The lift stops and the door opens. We’re no longer alone.
“I just want to know how far you’d be willing to go. Did you ‘get rid of’ people based on their ‘actions?’ What they did? Or did you do it because of the way it made you feel? Which is it? Was it about you, or them?”