by Loki Renard
I wail and wriggle. I squirm and I whimper, but he keeps going and his fingers find my pussy and strum there, making another one of those naughty orgasms rise.
He’s going to come inside me. He’s going to make me come with him. There’s no choice, no option, no natural outcome other than this writhing, screaming climax that comes as he jams himself deep inside and spends himself, pinching my clit and making me tumble into orgasmic bliss.
“So this is my life now. Getting fucked in the ass on a mountain,” I say, curling up into his body in the aftermath of our filthy interlude.
“Could be worse,” Jake says, kissing the back of my neck.
“Yeah. I could be getting murdered by a crooked cop.”
“Don’t worry about that. That’s not going to happen. Not ever. We’re going to make real fucking sure of that,” he says. “When the spring thaw comes, that fucker is dead.”
Chapter Nine
Three months later...
I thought spring might never come. I hoped it wouldn’t sometimes. And other times, I couldn’t wait for the tension to be over, for Rodney to be no more. The plan Jake and Remington and the others made never wavered the whole time. I managed to forget it and live a simple little life with Jake as my lover and the other men as more like friends. Well, except for Remington. He doesn’t make friends.
We’ve come back to the city as a group. The city doesn’t feel the same anymore. It always felt dirty and hostile, but now I feel a tension that makes me almost perpetually sick, even though Jake is constantly at my side, and the other three men are never all that far away.
Jake has been growing his facial hair out in a manner of disguising himself. What started as a yellow fuzz has become a golden mane extending from his face. I like it more than I thought I would. I guess it doesn’t matter. It’s a disguise, not an aesthetic choice.
“What is it?”
“I don’t like it here. Was it always this... gray?”
“Yeah, Jazz. This place has been falling apart forever.”
“It seemed cool when I first moved. I thought the grunge and grime was, I don’t know, kind of... edgy or something.”
This is a place of decay. Artists have tried to reclaim it, but that’s not working. There’s no money here for that. There’s a point of decay where things become romantic and sort of exciting. And then there’s another point where everything is just rotten. That’s where the city is now. It is a carcass on the open plains, and I find myself yearning for where the trees go and wild men live off their wits and the land.
I find myself pressing close to Jake, clinging to him almost as we walk along the streets. I can’t grow my facial hair out like he can, so we’ve settled for bleaching my hair instead. It’s not a good job. It’s patchy and it has made my hair really brittle in places. I don’t like the look of it on me. Jake says it will grow out. He’s right, but I still have to suffer with it in the meantime. It’s another thing that’s been taken from me. Another little indignity related to being hunted by Rodney. It’s good Jake is going to kill him. He deserves to die for what he has indirectly done to my hair.
We have a lot going for us. A team of men ready to do what they say is necessary violence. What we don’t have is any kind of money. Living in the woods doesn’t require cash, and obviously I can’t get any out of my accounts because I’m officially dead. All of us are relying on Jake’s relatively small cash reserves from his last fight.
The way we’re handling accommodation is one of the guys books a cheap motel room, we wait until it is dark, and then all of us squeeze in. I’m glad I’m short. I can fit on couches. But seeing all these men trying to contort themselves into what little comfortable space is available is quite something. They don’t seem to mind. I guess years of military deployments and then living wild makes sleeping in a bathtub with a couch cushion seem relatively comfortable.
Remington encourages Jake and me to stay inside the room as much as possible, but obviously Jake doesn’t want to.
“I know this city,” he says. “And I know the assholes we’re going after. I need to be out there.”
“You get seen, this is all over,” Remington growls. “There will be a media shit storm. They’ll televise it as they hunt you down and murder you, and nobody will even give a shit because they’ll all know you’re the bad guy.” He makes air quotes when he says the word ‘know.’
Remington is a smart guy. Cold, but brilliant.
“That’s a risk I’m going to take,” Jake says. He’s firm and calm and there’s no stopping him, even if any of the others wanted to. They defer to his judgement, I notice; even Remington ends up nodding.
“Okay, well, she,” he says, pointing his pen in my direction, “has to stay out of sight. She stays in the motel room unless she absolutely has to move.”
“No need to bark orders, Remington,” Jake says. “I’m handling Jazz.”
“Then I’ll find this Rodney.”
“I’ll find him too.”
“Can’t do both, Killer,” Remington says. “Babysit, or go out with your gun. Do one or the other. You can’t be in two places at once.”
“I don’t need babysitting,” I say, speaking up. I’m tired of hearing Remington talk about me like I’m not here. I don’t usually have the nerve to argue, but this is my life at stake. “I think I should be involved. I think I have to be. You could use me as bait.”
“We’re not using you as bait,” Jake snaps.
“That’s actually a good idea, though,” Remington says. Rock and Tristan are nodding too. “What better way to get the bad guys to come to us.”
Bad guys. They literally think in the language of cowboys and robbers, these massive mercenary men who are capable of literally anything. I just want this over with. I don’t want anyone to die, but I know Jake and his friends came to kill.
“We are not using Jazz as bait,” Jake growls, his fist clenching. “I’m keeping her as far out of this as possible. We know who these guys are. Rock, Tristan, you’re going to go tail the other two. Remington. I want you on Rodney. I’m going to stay with Jazz until we’ve acquired the targets. Then we’ll talk about elimination.”
He’s so cold and matter of fact about it. When they first came up with this plan, I wasn’t sure how I felt. The closer we get to actually doing this, the worse I feel. I don’t know if it is guilt, or something else, but this plan seems ill-fated to me. I can’t tell the guys that though, they don’t operate on feelings about fate, and their plan does sound logical, I guess. They kill everyone trying to hurt Jake and me.
The argument dies down of its own accord and a little while later, Remington, Rock, and Tristan leave while I’m taking a shower. I hear their footsteps and the door closing, but don’t think much of it because I’m finally under a hot shower for the first time in months.
“God, I fucking love plumbing,” I say to Jake when I emerge, all pink and wet and feeling properly clean.
He smirks at me from the bed and crooks a finger at me.
“I’m all wet,” I laugh, rubbing the towel over my body.
“Good. Just how I like you.”
He reaches out and pulls me down onto the bed with him, holding me up so I straddle him, he frees his cock and starts using my pussy, stroking my wet slit along the length of his shaft. This is Jake all over. When he wants me, he takes me. My pussy is his to use if he wants to jerk off in a dodgy motel room, and I get to enjoy the sensation of his hot cock pressing against my sex, the head of his dick bumping against my sensitive clit on every forward stroke.
“It’s been too long since I fucked you,” he grunts, slapping my ass. “Even longer since I spanked you.”
“That’s because I’ve been a good girl,” I tell him.
* * *
Jake
It’s true. She has been. I have to admit, Jazz is one obedient girl when she wants to be. She gives me free access to her sweet cunt, which I enjoy often. Not many girls are capable of keeping up with m
y sex drive, but even now I can feel her pussy starting to get wet as I pull her along my cock.
“You don’t think I’m a good girl?” She pouts the question down at me.
“You’re a very good girl, baby,” I tell her, lifting her up with two hands so I can pull her down on my cock, her pussy snug around me as I sink her down onto me.
God, she feels so fucking good. So absolutely perfect. Every time I’m inside her, it just feels right. The first time I fucked her, I knew she was mine. It didn’t matter what baggage she had, or what I had to do to keep her, I knew I’d met the woman I was destined to protect.
She’s moaning, working her hips against me, riding me so pretty. Jazz is never a passive fuck. She likes to work my dick, wants to show me how much she loves having my cock inside her. I give her a little slap on the ass.
“Harder,” I tell her. “Show me how much you want this cock inside you.”
Jazz blushes adorably, but she does as she’s told, putting her palms on my chest and lifting her hips up and down, fucking herself on my dick like the good girl I’ve always known she is.
“Stop.”
“Wha—?” She looks down at me, and I have to steady her on my cock, make sure she doesn’t disobey.
This is as much about distraction as it is about lovemaking. I’m going to give her something to think about besides being here in the city where her murderous ex lives.
“Stoppp...” I growl low as she tries to wriggle again.
“But...”
“You’ll come when I tell you to,” I say. “And you’ll be fucked when I say you get fucked.” I emphasize the message by holding onto her hips and pulling her up from my cock, then sliding her back down on it just as slowly. Her moan is my reward, the flush on her skin, the beautiful arch of her back. I can’t explain how much I love this woman, how much I would give up for her, how much I would do to keep her safe.
She is the one I dreamed about all those nights of deployment, the faceless, nameless girl who has always owned my heart. She thinks she is weak, but she is stronger than she understands. She has never been taught that she matters, but to me, she is the universe.
That is why we are not alone here. That is why my brothers are with me. Because we know how rare love is in this world, the kind of love that makes sacrifice a joy.
And now she’s rising and falling on my cock, her pussy claiming me with waves of passion, guided by my hands, our bodies in close connection, perfect harmony. She is the other half of me and I hope she knows that.
I reach up, grab her hair, and pull her down to me, grinding her against my cock.
“I fucking love you,” I growl against her mouth.
“I love you so much,” she whimpers back. I can hear the words, but more than that I can feel her clenching around me, gripping me with such strength and desire that I can’t hold back anymore and I flood her with cum, pulling her down on my cock with a few final rough strokes.
* * *
Jazz
Jake is fucking intense right now, his cum spilling from my pussy, his hands gripping my ass, his sweat mixing with mine and his kisses cutting off my words. There’s something desperate about how we are together now. I think we both feel the danger, and perhaps, a bad end. I know he would never let me get hurt if he could help it, but he might not be able to help it. Rodney is not a stupid man. He is not going to go down easy. He is not...
“Two down,” Rock announces as he walks into the room. Jake only just gets me covered with a blanket in time, not that Rock seems to care. He barely bats an eye as he slings himself into a chair and starts talking while Jake’s cock is still inside me.
“What?”
“Two down. Not Rodney. The other two. Tristan and Remington are cleaning up.”
I stare at Rock and then at Jake and then back at Rock. “You... already...”
“Doesn’t take long,” he shrugs. “Your boy Rodney is going to be a different story. He didn’t rise to the bait, and now that the other two are going to be missing, my guess is he’s going to go to ground.”
Jake sits up with a low growl, his cock sliding out of my sex, leaving me empty and wanting. I put my hand down between my thighs to placate my hungry pussy. “I thought we said we were going to talk about elimination.”
“Why talk when you can just do,” Rock says, putting a big heavy bag down next to himself. “It’s done.”
I can see from the tension of the muscles in Jake’s back he’s not happy about this. I’m not sure I am either. I feel sort of sick at the whole plan. I know these people wanted me dead, but that’s because they’re terrible people. It’s hard to become the sort of person who wants other people dead. I’m trying, but I’m failing.
“I’m going to grab a shower,” Rock says. “You two can finish fucking if you want.”
He winks at us and leaves the room. Jake grabs me and guides me back onto his cock, his dick sliding into my pussy easily. I let out a muffled moan as he starts to fuck me again, but this time it is different. This time I can tell he is annoyed; his cock slams inside me with hard, swift strokes, almost as if he’s punishing my poor pussy for what the guys did.
All I can do is hold on and take the pounding, knowing that everyone knows I’m Hammer’s little fucking cum doll, getting hotter and wetter for that knowledge. This is so dirty, so illicit, so fucking wrong, but I’m loving every moment of this sexual distraction from what is happening outside these thin motel walls, a series of mortal sins and crimes being committed in my name.
Over the next couple of hours, Jake and I get cleaned up and Remington and Tristan return. They don’t seem any different than they are on any other day. Just two men coming in from a spot of retaliatory murder.
“I have a plan to get Rodney tonight,” Remington says. “We can get this done in one day and be back in the mountains before anyone knows what’s happened. The longer we draw this out, the more chance we have of being caught. But we need Jazz.”
“To do what?”
I ask the question before Jake can point blank refuse on my behalf.
“Seems he has a favorite club he likes to frequent. My idea is, have you moonlight as one of the girls there.”
“You mean, as a bartender? You have to be...”
“Stripper,” he says.
“No!” Jake barks. “I told you, Jazz isn’t going to be in the firing line for this one.”
“We’ll be watching. He’ll try to make a move, probably get her alone in a private room. Once he does that, we move in. Bang. Done.” Remington makes a motion with his fingers after the fashion of a gun.
“It might work, Jake,” I say softly, reaching for his hand. “And they’re right. If the killing has started, we should finish it quickly.”
Chapter Ten
Jake
I know they’re right. Remington has an objectivity here that I just can’t have. His plan is solid. If I didn’t love Jazz with everything I have, I’d probably be suggesting the plan too.
I don’t want Jazz to be part of this world anymore. She doesn’t fit here. I’m used to seeing her up in the mountains now, in a pair of cut-down jeans and a plaid shirt that’s too big for her, her dark hair all wild with the curls she used to pull out of it every day.
“You don’t know how fucking precious you are to me,” I say, my lips hard on hers. “I can’t let you be in harm’s way.”
“I was in harm’s way when you met me,” she breathes. “This might be the only way out.”
* * *
And that’s how I find myself in a strip club, watching the woman I love gyrate on a small stage, surrounded by girls and sleaze and everything I wanted to save her from.
She moves like a goddess, that compact, curvy body catching more than my eye. It captures my fucking soul. This is dangerous. I wish there was another way to get Rodney out of hiding, but he’s not stupid. The first two went down easy. They were caught out with fake tips, lured to quiet areas and taken down before they knew what was h
appening. Good deaths. Better than they deserved.
Now it’s Rodney’s turn. He’s here, just where our intel suggested he would be. We can all see him, up at the stage. He’s a good-looking guy, for an evil fucker. He has that superficial charm all psychos have. He seems to be a favorite of the strippers too. I guess he’s a generous pimp.
The moment he spots Jazz, his mouth goes slack and his eyes glass over. It’s like watching a shark zero in on prey. There’s nothing there besides a cold hatred and the desire to hurt her.
Just seeing that expression on his fucking face makes me want to go over and kill him with my bare hands. But we’re doing this smart. Not messy.
Jazz’s expression is one of pure disgust, but she manages to plaster on a fake smile as she crouches down and lets him talk to her. This is where everything goes really good or really bad. I know he’s not going to hurt her out here in public. There’s way too many witnesses, but once he has her in that private room? All bets are off unless we can get there quickly.
He takes her by the hand and I watch with gritted teeth, adrenaline surging through my body as he leads her through the crowd. My mind flashes to the pictures he had of her on his phone, of what he wanted to do to her, pimp her out and then kill her.
This man is human scum, preying on the most beautiful parts of humanity, and I can’t wait to feel the life ebb out of him. I don’t care if that makes me a monster.
* * *
Jazz
I wasn’t ready to see Rodney again. When his eyes meet mine, I freeze. I know the guys are here, intellectually, but I can’t see them, and any sense of safety I had evaporates in his dead gaze.
He calls me over and I go, my legs moving like leaden weights. I wish I was wearing more than this. A bra and panties aren’t exactly the kind of clothing to give a girl confidence when coming face to face with her would-be murderer. Everything about this encounter is dirty, sordid, and dangerous.
I let him take my hand and draw me down from the little table stage where I’ve been shaking my ass.