by Amy Isan
Wordlessly and without taking his eyes off the screen, he points down into the opposite room. I follow his finger and find the kitchen. The fridge isn't stocked with much, but there is a beer. It's way to early to be drinking... what the fuck? Why not?
I pull out the clear glass bottle and knock the cap off with the edge of the counter. The cap flips over onto the floor and I brush it aside with my foot. I take a big breath of the watered down hops, then start drinking it.
After finishing the bottle in what feels like record time, I slam it down on the countertop and then push it into the half-full trash can. I open the fridge again, looking for anything that might satiate me more. I already feel my stomach getting slammed by the beer. I've always been a lightweight, haven't I?
I close the fridge, disappointed, and start opening the cabinets. I find a small packet of instant noodles and shrug it off. I've had worse breakfasts before and I've already had a beer. I grab a pan that's resting on a hook and stare at it. That'll take forever, I decide. I put the pan back and find another cupboard with bowls in it, and I fill one with water. The microwave makes quick work of the noodles. I pull out the hot bowl of steaming noodles and dump the spice packet in the broth.
Sitting down at the counter, I stare at the steam as it curls up in tendrils. I want to find out what Logan is up to, but Damian is... preoccupied. He might not know anyway.
I watch bubbles rise and pop at the top of the water and decide the noodles are probably ready. I lean down and scoop them up with a fork, devouring the meal like a rabid animal. I feel a little buzz from the beer coming on, and in the heat of the kitchen, it's kind of nice.
Although... with me, alcohol always comes a side effect. I get really horny. I can already feel myself flushing with thoughts of Logan coming back and pinning me against the counter. His hard tattooed arms on either side of my head, holding my wrists down. Then he'd push my panties aside and fill me with his cock. Mmmhm.
I rinse the bowl out and leave it in the sink, before sliding along the wall to get back to the stairs. I don't want Damian to see me again. Rather, I don't really want to see his screen. I slink against the corner and creep around the edge before getting my foot on the first step. It creaks a little and I quickly ascend to the top, before slamming the bedroom door shut behind me.
Logan needs to hurry up, or I might start without him. It feels like it's been way too long since he fucked me. I need that kind of release. That passion. That long dip into euphoria.
I climb back onto the bed and hide under the covers. I peel my clothes off and tuck them at the bottom of the sheets, he won't even know that I woke up.
I curl my fingers between my legs and confirm my suspicions. I need Logan sooner than later. I need my biker to drive me wild. I start without him, getting myself even more and more aroused.
After a few more minutes, I hear the front door open, and boots on the stairs. I can't help but smile about my little secret.
. . .
The door to our room swings open and Logan quickly steps inside, only briefly glancing at me before turning and closing the door. When he notices I'm awake, he stops and his jaw slackens a little. He steps forward, giving me that roguish grin that always breaks me down into nothing. I pull the sheets down and show off a little skin, before inching my leg out from under the covers and hooking it around his hips and pulling him forward.
He leans over and kisses me deeply, in a way I haven't felt before; parting his lips and gnawing on my tongue, he makes me whimper for more. That hungry look turns his blue eyes a dull iron.
Logan's fingers grasp the sheet covering me and he yanks it off me with a quick motion. He almost looks like he's going to eat me, the way he's looking at my naked body. He leans down and kisses my shoulder, then my neck and chest. His stubble has gotten thicker and it scratches my chest, surely leaving red marks where he traces his lips.
I coo and rake my fingers through his hair, wanting to pull him away just to feel his lips again. He pushes my hand off and stands up. Greed is in his eyes.
"Turn over," he commands, his voice dark and thick. I blush while obeying him. He grasps my ass and then spanks me with a loud twhack. I let out a startled cry, he's never spanked me before.
"Oh? You like that, don't you, Cassie?"
"Ah..." I murmur. "Yes," I whisper into the pillow.
"What was that?" He spanks me again and I let out another little moan.
"I like it," I say louder, maybe a little too loud. I flush red with embarrassment but Logan doesn't stop. He spanks me again. He pauses to take off his clothes, then he mounts me on the bed from behind. His body weight is resting on my knees and his hands are firmly placed on my back.
"God damn," he mutters. His hands slide across my skin and grab my shoulders, before coasting down my arms and bundling my wrists together. He trades one to the other and keeps my wrists bound with his powerful fingers. I try to resist at first, but when his grip grows tighter, I give up fighting him.
An intensity is building inside of me that I didn't know I could even hold. His lips touch my back and follow the same lines his hands just did, before he nudges his tongue against the nape of my neck. I curl my toes when his breath changes into a ragged growl that tickles my ears and sends shivers up my naked body. I muffle my moans into the pillow to try and quiet myself. I struggle to turn my head to look at him, but he pushes my face back with his free hand. "Not yet," he assures me.
He parts his legs a little and gives me some freedom to move. He lowers my arms and pins my wrists against my back, slightly raising me off the bed as he does. The stretch is just at the edge of uncomfortable. My biker growls again as he parts my legs and runs his finger up from my knee, briefly stopping before he reaches my clit. I yearn for him to touch me, for those hands to release some pressure that's building up inside me like a kettle. I want to explode.
I can feel his erection against my calf and that only makes it worse. I hear him chuckle a little under his breath and he finally brushes the edges of his fingers against my pussy, making me exhale hard in surprise. "You're so wet already, Cassie..."
"You're one to talk," I say into the pillow. I twitch my leg to graze his cock and remind him. "It's so warm."
He removes his finger from my quivering body and I hear him suck for a moment. The anticipation is killing me. I can't see what he's doing or what he's planning, and it only makes everything so much more intense. I might as well be blindfolded with the way he's handling me. My arms strain against his hand, but he grips my wrists firmly. His finger, now wet, runs up between my thighs and skips past my pussy, jumping to my other leg and running down. I squirm and let out a small moan and try to shake him off me, too wracked with arousal to realize what he might do in response.
"Ah... Logan,... you're teasing me," I whisper. He's smiling right now, I know it even if I can't see his face. He wets his finger again and then finally dips it against my pussy and down to my clitoris. I moan loudly and try to dip my hips toward him, urging him forward. He resists and pulls back.
"Stop fighting," he commands. I nod weakly and he wets his finger again, before running it up between my legs and down my lips. I can't believe how intense it feels, and with his hand putting pressure on my lower back, it's rubbing my clit against the sheets just a little each time he makes my body twitch.
"Fuck me," I whisper. He cranes his head forward and I feel his breath on my back, sticky from the heat coming through the window.
"What was that?"
"Fuck me," I say louder while managing to crane my head up and shout it into the wall. He recoils back and then gets to his knees, before sliding his cock between my thighs. He's still fucking with me, and I'm almost growing impatient. He has this presence... or aura, I want to say. Logan isn't someone you fuck with, even in the bedroom.
"That's... really... good," I squeak out between shallow breaths. He chuckles and lets out a low growl as he places one hand next to my head on the pillow and leans over my body. He
enters me while I'm still laying on my stomach. I've never... had anyone do that before. I squeal and frantically try to free my hands from his, but settle for gripping his fingers as tightly as I can. His weight shifts and he pulls out of me, then slips back in.
My whole body shudders with each wave of pleasure that overwhelms me. I can't speak any more, every time I open my mouth the only thing that comes out is a moan or cry. He slams his hips against my ass and pushes my whole body forward. His balls slap me with each stroke, and I feel like I'm going blind with pleasure.
"Cassie," he groans, leaning deep against my ear. His breath is growing ragged and his pace is picking up. He squeezes my strangled hands tighter and pulls my arms back even more, lifting my head and chest off the bed. He licks the side of my face and drags his tongue up to my ear, sending electricity down my spine, only for the spark to ride back up from his cock. Right now, I feel him throbbing deep inside me, and I don't want it to stop.
"Keep... keep going," I moan. He kisses the nape of my neck again and thrusts harder, his weight pushing down on my back with even more force each time. The weight forces me to pinch his root even harder and the pressure against the back of my pussy is glorious. He shudders as he lets out a muffled yell and climaxes. The sound of him in such a frenzy is enough to push me over the edge again, for who knows what number of orgasms. My face flushes a deep hue as I let out a yowl and clench his root with each crashing wave of euphoria. He spanks my ass again and slips out of me, before letting go of my hands. His weight leaves the bed and he leaves me like that, almost comatose. I could go right back to sleep.
I stretch my arms out wide and turn over with my last bit of energy, the bed sticky from my sweat. His side of the bed is dry and cool in comparison, and it feels good against my raw ass and punished back. I can still feel his kisses against my ear when I watch him dip into the bathroom for a brief second.
"Jesus christ, Logan." I mutter and let out a long sigh. "That was fuckin' insane."
He laughs in response. I turn my head to face him as he leaves the bathroom and grabs his clothes again. "Where are you going?"
"I have to take care of some business," he says. "I wanted to check up on you first."
"Again? Let me come."
He hesitates and looks out the window. Cars drive by and the sound drifts up through the hot air. Was it that loud the whole time we were having sex? I didn't even notice it at all. "Where were you earlier?" I ask. Maybe I can get something out of him.
"Getting more ammo since you used it all up," he says. He pulls out a parcel from his jacket and throws it on the bed. The way it lands, it looks heavy. I pick it up.
"How much is this?"
"Three hundred rounds, but it's only pistol ammo. I need revolver ammo for your gun."
I turn on to my stomach and drag myself across the bed. He's sitting in his jeans, still shirtless and looking hot as fuck. I can't take my eyes off him and as ridiculous as it sounds, just thinking about him fucking me again is getting me wet. I stroke his leg and see if there's any reaction.
"I have to do a favor for someone to get it, which is going to be a pain in the ass."
"What kind of favor?"
"I think I need to get in contact with the cartel that did the drug run up to Arizona. Some of their members are fucking shit up around here, it sounds like. I need to show them the door."
I stare at him, not sure if he's kidding or not. I definitely didn't hear any sarcasm in his voice. "What? Like kill them?"
He stands up and my hand drops from his thigh. He slips his shirt on and I frown. "Hopefully not."
"So you're going to leave me here again?" The pained look he gives me makes me instantly regret it. I shouldn't try guilt-tripping him into things. He doesn't have a choice. "Okay," I give in.
"Damian is here, he'll keep you safe."
"Yeah, I'm sure," I say, leaning back and resting my head on the pillow. "Don't take forever."
"I won't," he says. He slips out the door and clicks it closed gently. I smirk. That fucking guy has got some real sharp talons dug in me deep, for me to put up with this shit. But no one can say he's a loser.
I wait for the howl of his engine to signal his departure, and it comes after a few moments. It sounds like he's making his bike scream just for me. To remind me that he's out there, doing whatever he can for me. For us.
. . .
Considering how much Logan is doing for us, it makes me feel like I'm not doing enough. I've pretty much been dragged along for the ride this whole time, and god knows, I feel like a burden. I did my best to learn how to shoot the other day, so hopefully if the situation arises, I'll be prepared this time.
I should do more, but what can I do? We have plenty of money, and if I'm not rough enough for Logan to take me with him on his... vaguely illegal excursions, what good am I to him?. I don't think I could stomach being his sidekick in crime anyway. Can you train that reflex? The one that makes your heart splash into your stomach?
I don't know. I climb out of the bed and dress myself for the day, pulling on some shorts and a thin shirt. I can't believe how much hotter it is here than up in Arizona, and I'm used to fucking 110 degree weather. It probably doesn't help this room doesn't have a ceiling fan, although I couldn't expect that, could I?
I fall down to my hands and knees and pull the duffel bag out from under the bed. I unzip it and pull out the revolver, still a bit dirty from our desert shoot-out. I decide I can at least clean this up, right? That'd be helpful.
I twist it around in my hand before locating the cylinder unlock. It flips open and reveals six empty holes. I tip the gun back and peer through them, the light shining through the smooth metal. Examining the gun now, I'm not really sure what I can do to clean it up. Maybe... Damian knows? He seems like the kind of guy to have guns. At least he has a computer to look it up instructions.
I pocket the gun which bulges through my shorts like I'm carrying some kind of weird fruit or I have a tumor in my leg. I pace down the stairs and look for Damian, but he's not at his usual post by the front door. His laptop screen is open and I sit down in the chair.
On the screen, a window is open with a map showing directions leading out of the town into the desert between here and Santa Ana. Did he just leave? I don't even know if he has a car...
"Damian?" I call out into the house. My voice is dead against the carpet and there's no answer. I shout again and stand up and start searching around. There must be a garage or something attached to the opposite wall of this place, right? I stalk down the hall beside the stairs and find a thick door with a lock. I jiggle the handle and open it, revealing a deserted garage with an oil stain glistening in the center of the cement floor. "Great," I say. A toolbox is near the door in the garage, and I figure that's something that I might need. I grab it and take it back inside, mulling over the whole map mystery.
What's Damian doing out in the desert? Thinking about what Logan told me... I can only think of drugs. But that wouldn't really make sense. Just him? By himself?
Or did he go with Logan to solve our ammo issue? I thought Logan said Damian would be here to keep me safe. I sigh in frustration. What can I fucking do if no one tells me anything?
I go back to the computer and drop into the chair with as much dead weight as possible. I find a webpage detailing handgun cleaning, so I drag the laptop to the kitchen with me. I pull out the handgun and start following the instructions. The tools from the toolbox are more helpful than I thought they would be, but not for... their designed purposes. Mostly using them to help pry things apart and such.
After a long while where it feels like time has stopped, I'm done. I put the final polish on the gun with my shirt and admire it. It looks real good. Logan might even be proud. I take the laptop back where I found it and leave it on the desk. I don't want Damian to come home and think I was snooping around on his computer.
But I've already looked and I saw the map... So what else might I find? I pocket the revolver
and sit in the chair and pull up Damian's browser history. Lots of porn... more and more porn... but then a couple of chat room web pages. Weird. They have names I can't decipher, and I feel a chill run up my spine when I see them. Not because I'm so embarrassed to not know Spanish, but because it just seems fishy.
Especially the timestamps. He was on those pages last night after Logan and I had gone to sleep.
Who was he talking to?
Probably no one, I assure myself. If anything, they're just like all the porn sites. Just dating hook ups or something. Maybe that's where he went. Just cybering with strangers seems like his ballgame, considering everything else.
I still wish that I didn't have to hang out here alone, though. I climb the stairs and find the duffel bag splayed open on the bed. I flip open the chamber and reload the gun with the last four rounds and click it closed. It's satisfying, knowing I can actually wield this thing. But at the same time, a little scary to think my life has come to a point where I need to use a gun.
Maybe to take my mind off things and be a little useful, I could go shopping for food? There's plenty of money still in the bag for me to use, and Logan should be back in time to actually enjoy it. I feel silly, like I'm playing housewife with a convict.
I want to bring the gun. I might need it. Too bad I can't carry it with these shorts. I change into something a bit looser to hide the gun. I pocket some cash before zipping the bag closed and pushing it under the bed. I go to the bedroom door. With my hand still on the knob, I survey the room and try to note how disheveled it is. I can take care of that later. I shut the door and descend the stairs quickly.
I'm sure there's a store nearby somewhere. Maybe a market?
Outside the apartment isn't any cooler than inside. Once I make it to the sidewalk the sun beats down on me. I shield my face from the heat and try to pick a direction to go. Logan took me left to that little restaurant the other morning. So maybe... Turn right? I note the building across from the alley incase I get lost, and start my way down the sidewalk, feeling the revolver's heft in my pants.