by Abbott, Alex
I gripped both of her wrists in one of my hands and quickly donned the condom with the other. Then, her wrists still in mine, I pushed the head of my cock inside her, unable to suppress a moan at the first blast of heat and the feel of her pussy opening at my entry. I stayed there, my cockhead barely penetrating her, letting the pleasure wash over me.
“Please,” she cried out, reaching toward me even though I held her hands tight.
I pushed farther, moving an inch deeper, and then another, and then another and another, panting as her walls spread for me. When I was fully seated, I paused again and looked down at her, smiling faintly when she looked up at me, brown eyes filled with ecstasy that bordered on wonder.
Her eyes reflected what I felt. Wonder, comfort, pleasure so intense that it froze the air in my lungs. The sensations rushed through me, her tight cunt pressing around my cock, the press of her soft abdomen against mine, her nipples faintly scrubbing against my chest as she breathed in and out in heavy breaths, and then, once I released her, her hands roaming across my body as if she tried to touch all of me at once.
I rocked into her gently, and I closed my eyes and gritted my teeth against the pleasure that filled me. I pushed inside her again and then I pulled out of her completely before slamming home. I repeated the motion, pulling out and slamming home in slow, full thrusts. As I’d known they would be, her hips were the perfect cushion for my thrusts, the soft yet firm flesh bouncing with against me with each thrust, her equally full thighs cradling me tightly when she wrapped her legs around my waist.
I tweaked her nipples and then moved down her body until I reached her clit, circling my thumb around the distended bud and then pressed down roughly, my cock twitching when she clamped her cunt around me, her slick pussy getting wetter with each thrust. She went stiff under me and then cried out, her fingers gripping my arms as she squeezed her thighs around me even more, pulling me closer to her and deeper inside her.
Her pussy pulsed around me as she cried out her orgasm, coming on a harsh sigh, her warm breath brushing against my ear. It was a simple action, one that shouldn’t have touched me so deeply, but one that sent me over the edge nonetheless. I came harder and longer than I ever had, blast after blast of cum shooting out of me and into the condom.
I thrust inside her as I came, and on my last push, she climaxed again with a low moan. I kissed and touched her through her climax and as we calmed I held her face and stared into her eyes, feeling a soul-deep completion that I’d never known.
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
I moved from her reluctantly, lamenting the loss of our connection, but I stilled when she placed a tender kiss on my arm, the softness of her lips against my skin stirring renewed desire.
“May I make you breakfast?” she asked quietly.
I wanted nothing more than to spend every moment with her that I could. “I’d like that very much,” I said.
She stood, and I eyed her hungrily, my gaze roving over her, pausing on the smooth expanse of her back, the nip of her waist as it flared out to her wide, womanly hips. The early morning light cast her beautiful brown skin in a soft glow that made me want to reach for her again. I turned, not wanting to look away but worried that I wouldn’t be able to stop myself if I didn’t.
I dressed quickly and followed her to the kitchen. We sat in comfortable silence as she moved around the kitchen with the same ease and grace that she did at the restaurant. A few moments later, she presented a plate full with fluffy eggs and crisp-looking french toast. I murmured my approval after the first bite, and a pleased expression stole over her face.
As much as I was enjoying sharing this meal, there was a matter I needed to address.
“Why are you there so late? And by yourself.” I said the last sternly and making no attempts to hide my displeasure with the fact that she worked alone.
“I usually have at least two people open and close, but I lost my best guy, and finding a replacement has been tough, so I’ve had to pick up the slack. And besides,” she smiled brightly, “I meet the most interesting people.”
I didn’t return the expression.
“It’s not safe. You need to have someone with you.”
A spark of anger ignited in her eyes.
“I’d prefer not to be lectured,” she said, voice hard.
“And I’d prefer you not be vulnerable,” I returned quickly.
The harshness of my words was rooted in fear. No place was safe, not at any time, not really, and she was tempting fate. If I hadn’t been there…I cut off that train of thought before I could take it too far. I had been there, and I was here now, and I need to focus on that, and not what could’ve been.
We stared at each other for several long moments, neither giving an inch. I appreciated the fight, but I was right and wouldn’t yield on the issue. Apparently she agreed, for she looked away after a few more beats.
“You’re right,” she said with a deep breath. “I was silly, somehow thought that I was protected or immune, but I guess that’s not the case. Which sucks, because I’ve never, ever been afraid there. Not even when I get the occasional crazy who rambles in. But now…” She trailed off, and I hated that her peace had been shattered.
But I was also a little grateful, a small selfish voice deep in my mind reminded me. If last night had never happened, this morning wouldn’t have either.
“You work at night too?” she asked suddenly.
“Yes.” I didn’t elaborate, and she seemed satisfied by the answer.
“I can tell. Most folks look tired, but not you. Always so focused and alert. How long have you worked nights?”
“Years. I’m used to it now, not sure if I could do anything else,” I said.
I hoped that my discomfort didn’t show, but I hadn’t even considered how to handle this conversation. Normal people, people like April, talked about their work, especially with those they spent time with. But I wasn’t normal, and I had no frame of reference for this type of interaction. I’d just have to be vague and hope that it worked.
“And you like it, what you do?”
“It has its benefits,” I said honestly. “And its drawbacks.”
“You do physical work right, work with your hands?” she asked.
“Usually. My job can be strenuous, but not always,” I said.
It wasn’t technically a lie, but I felt a great wave of shame.
“I could tell that too,” she said, smiling again. “You have that look about you, move so smoothly and comfortably. I can’t imagine you behind a desk all day, or night in this case,” she said.
I didn’t respond, but her smile remained as she glanced at me shyly, and I took the opportunity to change the subject.
“Don’t say it. It’s not necessary,” I said.
“I’m too transparent, but I don’t know what else to say. So thank you. I’m done now,” she said quickly raising her hands.
“Good. I have to go,” I said.
Her smiled dimmed the smallest bit, but she recovered quickly.
“Would you mind if I come by sometimes…?” It was my turn to fumble, and I trailed off, cursing myself for speaking the words. I needed to pull away, not get deeper involved. But there was no part of me that could fathom leaving April to wonder if I’d used her, no part of me that could abide the thought of not seeing her again.
“Of course. Please do,” she said, smiling even brighter, a faint hint of relief and excitement in her eyes.
“And you’ll do something about the night situation?”
She sobered, though this time I didn’t care. Her safety was paramount, and while I had plans of my own, she needed to take them herself as well.
“Yes. I have calls to make this morning. I’m shifting so that open and close has at least two people at all times. And I need to see a contractor about the door. It’s unlocked most of the time, but beefing things up can’t hurt.
I nodded my agreement with her plan and then stood, and she followed suit. I closed
the two steps that separated us and then wrapped her in an embrace, one that I tried to keep gentle, though I feared the ferocity of my emotion bled through.
“Good-bye, April,” I said, and then I left.
Chapter Seven
I spent the day resting, working out, planning for the evening, and resolutely trying not to think of April. I failed at that task, miserably, and as the day progressed, I caught myself remembering the sensation of her skin against my hands, the soft little sighs she’d released as I’d stroked inside her, how gentle her eyes were when she smiled, how they’d glittered with pleasure.
Less than twelve hours and I already missed her, had to restrain myself from going to her. But somehow I resisted. I hadn’t decided yet what to do, needed to be sure, or less unsure before I saw her next.
And there was work to be done.
So I pushed memories of April, the decision I had to make, aside and focused on the task at hand.
The person I sought lazily strolled across the street, seeming at ease, without a care in the world. Poor bastard didn’t know what was coming, but maybe, I thought as I moved toward him, it was better that way. I slowed as I approached and pulled out my .25, and when I was three feet away, I popped three shots, two to his chest, one to his neck. He slid to the ground without a sound, shock etched on his features.
I slowed a little more, watched as the life drained from his eyes, and then sped up and walked away without turning back, though not fast enough that I’d attract attention. Killing him had been easy, probably too easy, and for the first time in years, I wondered what it said about me that other than the rush of excitement and pride at a job perfectly done, I felt nothing. And then my mind conjured a picture of April seeing me like this, the light in her eyes replaced with terror, her warmth and openness replaced with coldness and fear.
I tried to hold the picture in my mind, told myself that I needed to remember that she didn’t know me, that she never could, would reject me, or worse, if she did. But that didn’t work either. Even with the proverbial blood of some poor soul who’d gotten on the boss’s very bad side still fresh on my hands, even with full knowledge that this would not end well, I still longed for her, knew that I wouldn’t be able to stay away.
∞ ∞ ∞ ∞
My internal battle waged as I returned from the job, and the thoughts only abated when I met Shaughnessy at our designated spot.
“Have you handled that thing we discussed?” Shaughnessy asked after he’d played out his standard routine.
I’d handled a few of his personal problems before, a professional courtesy that the boss extended to him when he requested.
“I’ll get to when I can,” I said impatiently. Shaughnessy’s problems were at the bottom of my list.
“You got it?” he asked, changing topics.
I handed over the bag, which he accepted.
“Thanks, big boy,” he said as he slapped me on the shoulder jovially.
I wanted to break his fucking hand.
“You aren’t earning your money, Shaughnessy,” I said finally, my words clipped with my agitation as I slammed the .44 revolver into his palm.
“What are you talking about?” he asked, quirking a brow with as much curiosity as he was probably able to muster.
“You have people breaking the rules, robbing those who’ve paid like they were supposed to.”
That bushy brow went up higher, and Shaughnessy narrowed his rodent-like eyes on me.
“That trouble last night was you, big boy? You scared those kids pretty bad.”
“Kids,” I spat, not bothering to mask my disgust.
“What’s your interest in that shitty joint?”
I curled a lip in disgust, but quickly got myself under control. “No interest, but if people pay and still get robbed, the whole thing falls apart. And isn’t it your job to make sure that that doesn’t happen?”
“Yeah, but if people don’t pay without consequences, the whole thing still falls apart. I’m a nice guy, so I cut them some slack after the change in ownership, but my guys say the new girl has been a little…reluctant with her payments, and I figured a reminder of what happens when you don’t pay rent was in order. You know how it goes,” he said, again slapping my shoulder.
I did, but that didn’t keep me from wanting to break every bone in his fucking body.
“Call of your dogs, Shaughnessy. That place is off-limits.”
The words were growled and barely intelligible, but he got the message and raised his hands and pushed them toward me.
“Fine, whatever you say. Tell her not to worry about the money; it would be a mockery of our friendship if I took money from your lady. I wish I’d known because she could have avoided that unpleasantness.”
He shrugged and then his expression turned lecherous. “I guess a guy your size would like a bigger girl, and I’ll admit, I like to take a poke at a black one from time to time myself.”
He nudged me conspiratorially, and winked, and my hands threaded tight around his throat before I knew it. I squeezed, resisting the temptation to crush his larynx, but just barely.
“Off-limits, Shaughnessy. Forget she even exists,” I said.
He swatted at my wrists, trying to pry my hand away to no effect. I held on, increasing the pressure incrementally as I waited.
“Fine,” he finally choked out.
“Good,” I said, and then I pushed him away.
The other man’s eyes glittered with fear—and rage—as he adjusted his shirt and shooed the others who approached, guns drawn, away.
“Someone should teach you some manners,” he said smoothly, mask back in place in the blink of an eye.
“It won’t be you,” I said, and then I turned and left.
I was five blocks away when my phone rang.
“Shaughnessy called already?” I asked.
“Said I needed to keep my dog on a leash before he got hurt,” the boss said.
“He should do the same,” I said.
“Is this something I should be concerned with?” the boss asked.
“No. It’s handled.”
“Make sure it is,” he said and then hung up.
I blew out a frustrated breath. I’d fucked up, let Shaughnessy, and my concern for April, cloud my judgment, which only proved, as if there was a question, that I needed to stay away from her.
Chapter Eight
I lasted three days.
It felt like three years.
Every second without her was torture, the minutes seeming almost unending. I’d been with her only once, but she was in my blood all the same. The awareness that I should leave her alone, take that day that we’d had together and cherish it but keep my distance, fought valiantly against the spirit-deep necessity of seeing her once more.
But it lost.
So despite the awareness, despite my knowledge that there could never be anything between us, and even worse, that being near her would eventually put her in danger, I couldn’t stay away.
And so I returned to the restaurant, calm and happiness so potent that I had to ignore it filling me. I took my usual seat, and April walked over to me and left the plate with pie, fork, and a cup of coffee in front of me. And then she went back to what she’d been doing before I’d entered, turning chairs up onto the tables as she did every night at closing. Nothing about her revealed the fact that we had been so intimately connected so recently. It seemed that to her it had just been another day, and though this was exactly the outcome I’d hoped for, I was annoyed. Pissed off, really. My reaction was unfair, but I didn’t care. I knew our connection wasn’t one-sided, but if April had felt it, she sure as fuck wasn’t showing it.
I alternated between feeling like a fool and being relieved. She was actually doing me a favor, her nonchalance saving me from having to pretend that I didn’t want her. But I was still pissed.
“So you don’t like blackberry?” she said.
I stared down at the untouched pie; I’d been
so consumed in my own thoughts I’d completely forgotten it was there.
“Look, April—” I started, but when I glanced up at her, and saw the joy–and desire–that had her brown eyes ablaze, I stopped abruptly.
It was then that I noticed how close she stood, her breasts pressing against my shoulder as I sat. Without saying anything she leaned forward and kissed me on the cheek.
“It’s nice to see you. I was worried I’d chased you away,” she said shyly.
Never, I wanted to say, but instead I settled on, “I’ve been busy with a work thing.”
The corners of her lips turned up in a way that told me she didn’t exactly believe my story. “That’s okay. I’m just glad you’re here now.”
“April, can I clock out?” a man called from the back.
“The new busboy,” she said at my questioning brow. “Would you mind staying while I finish closing up?”
I shook my head, and she smiled her thanks.
“Go ahead. See you tomorrow,” she called to the busboy.
“Thanks. See you,” the man responded.
“I took your advice,” she said a moment later.
“Good,” I responded, though I was distracted by her softness against me, the gentle expression on her face, the hardness of my cock.
“I’ll try to finish up soon,” she said.
“Take your time,” I responded and began eating the pie.
She laughed as she continued tidying the dining room and moving back and forth between it and the back.
“Can I help?” I asked, realizing I was being rude, something that April might not like, and that, more importantly, at least to my cock, the faster she finished, the faster I’d be inside her if she let me, and how I prayed that she’d let me.
“It’s okay. One last dish and I’m done.”
With that she removed my plate and cup and then headed to the back, reemerging less than five minutes later.
“You ready?” she asked once she’d turned off the lights and locked the door.