by Kane, Janine
The Brazilian model orgasmed, noisily and at length, assisted by some delicate nipple-sucking from Bruna. Behind them, Marcella emerged from the bathroom, her hair tidy once more after the earlier disarray, and wearing what had been a much-needed change of dress. Glancing at Vincent, then at the arched back of Jacqueline, she smiled warmly and sat seductively on his knee.
“Curt, when you were a boy,” he paused, fixated on the show taking place on the sofa opposite. “I assume you were once a boy?” The dildo was gently withdrawn and then hungrily sucked by both women. “When you were young, did your father teach you how to deal with disrespect?” Three fingers had entered Bruna’s well-lubricated pussy, and she was staring with lustful expectation at the monster dildo. “Oh, well I’m sorry about that, Curt. I didn’t know. Did he deserve it?” The head of the giant red cock pressed against Bruna’s excited opening. “I’m sure he did, the rat.”
Bruna moaned loudly as Jacqueline guided the giant, red sex toy’s slow, deep penetration. “Well, did your mother teach you about disrespect? . . . She did? That’s excellent. She was a good egg, by the sounds of things.”
As they watched the dildo slip ever deeper inside, Marcella didn’t wait to be asked, but brought out Vincent’s stiffening penis and began a warm tongue-bath. “I think your moral compass is guiding you with assurance, Curt.” Marcella’s hands joined her mouth, slipping up and down Vincent’s shaft as it grew to full hardness once more.
“Curt, my vengeful envoy, I’m going to have to call you back in just a moment,” he said, his eyes closing as Marcella sucked him at an especially pleasing angle, “Yeah, in about . . .” he managed not to gasp with pleasure, “ten minutes?” Vincent glanced over to see Jacqueline kneeling up on the sofa, easing the dildo slowly in and out of Bruna’s pussy, her own perfectly rounded ass already made wet for him.
“Better make that half an hour.”
***
Route 72
12:20am
There was a flicker of recognition as Gray and Hank passed through the tiny, sleeping town of Pawnee for the third time. Theirs were virtually the only headlights around, and Gray proceeded at a measured speed, neither purposeful nor deliberately slow. He simply created a window of time and let Hank fill it with priceless information.
“So, let me imagine it in my own mind,” Grayson said, piecing together what he had learned so far. “We’ve got large and regular shipments coming in to a port, here in Texas somewhere, right?”
“It ain’t Houston, that’s all I know,” Hank repeated.
“OK, fine. Then, it gets transferred and brought up the coast?” Gray wanted to confirm.
“They drop it off in the middle of nowhere, outside some national park,” said Hank. “Little boats come out to meet it, all real quick.”
“Great. Then what?” And this time, try to tell me something I don’t already know.
Hank fanned out his hands from a central point, like an explosion. “A little here, a little there, all in normal-looking vehicles.”
“Like the car you drove,” Hank added.
“Oh, now I see how Eva is driving your old Pontiac. The gang gave you your own car.”
“Yeah, a new one pretty often, too, but that didn’t matter, because they always found a way to track us.” Hank’s fist opened and closed like a beacon transmitting.
“Interesting. Where do they hide the trackers?”
“Dunno,” Hank admitted. “I tore that sucker apart, so I know it ain’t in my car. Tossed my cellphone too, got a new one, just in case, cost me damn near my last dollar. Still don’t know where it is.”
That’s OK, buddy. I sure do. “Doesn’t matter. So, you’ve got a regular trip set up to Boston, did I hear that right?”
“Yeah. I did it maybe four, five times. Piece of cake. But then, on the last one, things got ugly.”
“They ripped you off,” confirmed the detective, changing lanes to pass a huge RV.
Hank pinched the bridge of his nose. “I just didn’t see it, man. Everything was normal, and then, boom, they’re like, ‘We don’t care what you have to tell your boss,’” he reported in his thickest Boston accent, “’we’re gonna take this, and we ain’t gonna pay you, and you can go fuck yourself’”.
“Not very nice,” said Gray, commiserating.
“So I was fixing to drive all the way to fuckin’ Illinois, knowing that when I get there, they’re never gonna believe that I didn’t just steal it.” The memory of that helplessness seemed to sap Hank’s energy.
“But they saw that you’d been to Boston, on the tracker,” Gray countered.
“Don’t matter,” Hank said with a firm shake of the head. “Money talks, that’s it. No money, no trust. And if there’s no trust, I’m there thinking that they’d just cut their losses.” He drew a finger across his throat.
“So you wanted to put some distance between you. Get yourself to the south.”
“I hung around in a couple of places for a few days, but cash was tight, and I’m getting these texts from Curt saying that he’s gonna cut me into little pieces, and all this, and I just fuckin’ lost it, man.”
Gray took a fatherly, placating tone. “You had a rough deal, Hank, and you didn’t deserve it. You’re doing the right thing, now.”
He was almost crying. “I just don’t want Evie in trouble.”
The Detective was nodding, giving off a sympathetic, understanding air. “You know what, Hank? I really don’t think she’s going to find herself in any trouble. Not when she’s with my buddy Zack.”
***
Sutherland, TX
12:30am
“I don’t really know how much to tell you,” Zack confessed as they sat together on his couch, their legs almost touching. The lights were low, the TV off, and neither of them felt like drinking, despite the bottle of wine chilling in the fridge. “Gray’s pretty high up in the DEA, and if he needs something, he generally gets it.”
“What, have they got Robocop coming in to take them all down?” Eva asked, dark humor suiting her mood.
“We’ve got something . . . better than that.” Zack kept his tone light, determined to cheer her up. “You know, when I was in Afghanistan, if we needed to take a look somewhere, and it was too dangerous to go there ourselves, we’d get some special help.”
Eva thought for a second. “Wait, you don’t mean . . .”
“Yeah.”
“One of those . . . flying robots?” she asked uncertainly.
“A drone,” Zack clarified. “Saved our lives more than once. I lost track of how many times I called one in.” She stared at him in disbelief. “The DEA has one, right now,” he explained, “watching that church and the whole area around it. There isn’t anyone who could show up there – for a meeting, or to pray to Jesus – without Gray knowing all about it.”
“Seriously?” Eva faced him, impressed and surprised. She found her skepticism beginning to give way to relief.
“Yup. And, they have a team, ready to help if we need them.” He gently pushed her hair behind her ears, stroking her face. “And, if you haven’t noticed, I’m a badass, and there ain’t no one coming near you tonight.”
She smiled mischievously. “Except,” she said demurely, “if I want them to.” Zack’s eyes shone intently as he nodded, holding her gaze. He found her hand on his knee; neither knew when she had placed it there. He glanced down at her slender fingers, pale and slight, willing her hand to slip an inch higher. Or more.
“It feels good,” she was saying, the words coming tentatively, “to have someone like you.” Zack’s eyes traveled back upward, deliberately slowly, from her hand, along her arm and up, wishing away the red barrier of her borrowed T-shirt, finding his gaze resting on her neckline, the baggy shirt letting him take in her collar bone, and then the gentle valley which led down between her breasts.
Meeting her eyes again, Zack read their unambiguous message: Don’t be shy . . . I love your eyes on me . . . Enjoy me . . . Just that si
mple, passive act of being gazed upon by him had her nipples tingling, firm and expectant. One hand gave his knee a slight squeeze, while the other moved up toward her neckline, halfway to showing him just a little more.
She hesitated while her body and mind fought each other for control. Oh, God, is this happening now? I shouldn’t have said that . . . He’s going to think I’m too forward . . . Maybe that I’m just easy, another cheap girl throwing herself at him . . .
“What about,” she said, giving her racing mind, and her overwhelmed senses, time to breathe, “that bottle of pinot grigio?” she asked brightly.
“Great plan,” Zack agree, jumping up to find the corkscrew. If he kept his back to her while opening the bottle, he figured, she might not see that he was almost unbearably hard.
***
Club Karma, San Antonio
12:45pm
Vincent was nearly – although, of course, never entirely – at a loss for words. “Well, ain’t this the quintessential double-whammy,” he muttered to himself. First, his three gorgeous companions had fucked, sucked and stroked him until his brains were fried. And now he was hearing news which left him damn near speechless.
“Curt, give me a moment to metabolize this particular tidbit of intelligence,” he said, downing a huge glass of ice water in a single pull. “You’re telling me that, having been pottering around in the boonies for a few days, Mr. Montgomery has now decided to take a train to Austin?”
After a long day, and an overload of cocaine and whiskey, not to mention mind-blowing sex, Vincent had just about reached his limit. “Would it be prudent, perhaps, to follow him on this impromptu journey? . . . You believe it would? Well, I’m glad we are of a mind on this point, Curt, I really am. I wish you an enjoyable trip.”
He thought for a second. “But before you go, I wonder if I could ask you a favor? . . . Oh, anything, you say? Well, how helpful. Hold the line?” Vincent signed for the tip, feeling generous enough to add an extra $100. Then he returned to Curt.
“Here’s what I’d like you to do,” he spelled out with clinical savagery. “Turn up the fucking heat.”
***
Route 72, 12.50am
The traffic was very light, so Gray slowed to 40mph and let a more relaxed Hank tell him – and the microphone by his knee – as much as he wanted to. Once he’d opened up about the bare-faced betrayal in Boston, Hank had become a veritable torrent of useful stuff, more than Gray had ever expected. Thank God you had Zack to keep you alive. You have no idea how lucky you’ve been.
“What about this asshole who’s been cruising around looking for you. What’s his name, Curt? Is he based in San Antonio?” Gray asked.
“No idea. He just goes where there’s punishment to be dealt out. Drives everywhere, too, different car every week. He’s like rent-a-henchman, you know?”
Gray nodded and gave Hank a companionable laugh. Anything to keep you talking. “Think he might have been spending time down here before you arrived, maybe?”
“Not sure. Why do you ask?”
“Ah, just trying to get the timeline straight in my head.” And pin a couple of murders on Curt.
“With their focus really being on Corpus Christi and San Antonio, was it just bad luck you drove all that way and ended up in their back yard?”
Hank shook his head sadly. “Now you see how desperate I was, man. Evie was here, so here I came. If she’d been at the fuckin’ North Pole, I’d have gone there instead man. Borrowed Santa’s sleigh and boogied on up there.”
Gray gave another agreeable laugh, and then felt his phone trying to get his attention:
The passenger is aboard.
“Anything about me?” Hank asked, his paranoia resurfacing.
“No, no. Just my girlfriend wanting to know what time I’m going to be home. But as I’m enjoying our little conversation, Hank, I think I’ll tell her not to wait up.”
***
Sutherland, TX
1:15am
“Oh, God, yes . . . Right there . . . A little harder?”
“Harder?” Eva asked, surprised.
“Yeah, don’t be scared. Maybe just get your knuckle in there and really go for it?”
Eva smiled. “That won’t hurt too much?”
“No more than it already does . . . ?” Zack wasn’t someone to shy away from a little discomfort, especially if it had genuine, therapeutic value.
“You should get a massage right after you train,” Eva reminded him.
“I know, I know. And an ice bath too, but . . . I mean, have you ever tried one?” he asked.
She giggled. “Hell no. I can think of much nicer ways of getting myself all perky.” Like doing this for you, right now. Her nipples had become hard and erect, tingling with electric arousal.
Zack laughed but then winced as she found the exact spot, halfway down his back, just to the right of his spine, where the day’s tensions seemed to have their root. Aggressive lifting had made him incredibly sore; Eva had taken a massage course once. That had been, for them both, more than enough reason to peel off his shirt.
“Get comfortable,” she said encouragingly, gesturing for Zack to lay himself chest down on the sofa. Admiring the fine musculature of his back from above, Eva tied back her hair in a quick ponytail and hesitantly took her seat on the backs of his thighs, just south of The Perfect Ass. She caught her breath yet again as her hands glided over his well-toned back and powerful shoulders, pressing and circling the tired muscles. Massaging his neck muscles now in slow, deep patterns, she felt the unavoidable warmth between her legs press up against him, wondering if he felt it, too. The seam of her Levis was making firm and pleasing contact with her most sensitive spot; she bit down the urge to gasp, hiding her growing arousal.
Eva found her voice. “Do we know when . . .”
“He said 2:30 at the earliest,” Zack replied, thinking along identical lines.
“Good,” she heard herself say, then hoping to cover her horniness, added, “I’m, uh . . . sure they have a lot to talk about.”
Zack smiled and flexed his shoulders under her hands. “You’ve done an amazing job back there,” he said. “You have gifted hands”. He let her work the last knots out of his aching shoulders, impressed with her enthusiasm but distracted somewhat by the soft warmth between Eva’s legs. “Now,” he began with a certain reluctance but an unquenchable need to finally put his hands on her body, “given all the stress you’ve been under recently, your back must be twice as knotted up as mine.” He felt her nodding her head. “Can I return the favor?”
“Sure,” Eva answered.
She slid off him and then, as he rose to allow her to lay down on the sofa, came a stroke of genius. “You might,” he offered graciously, “be more comfortable on my bed”.
Zack hadn’t been wrong about her back; she was a tangle of knots, all down her spine. He gave Eva a firm and accomplished massage, locating and soothing her troubles, hoping that she wouldn’t notice his hardness pressing against her, through two pairs of jeans.
He slid his hands under her shirt, starting with slow circles on her lower back and moving steadily upward. Eva groaned as he hit a particularly knotty area. “Is that good groaning or bad groaning?” Zack asked.
Eva laughed. “Good. Painful, but good.”
“Ok, well let me know if you need me to stop.” His hands continued to move slowly upward along her spine, eventually arriving at her bra strap. “Do you mind?” he asked, taking it between his fingers.
“No, it’s fine,” she replied, trying to mimic his nonchalant tone. He slid his hands up and down the length of her back, then moved up to her shoulders. “Oh, god!” she exclaimed, making a noise halfway between a grunt and a whimper. His hands stopped. “No, no, it’s ok,” she assured him. “It’s good, actually. I think my right shoulder has been bothering me for days,” she explained, “but I hadn’t noticed it because of all the other things. Please keep going. My neck, too.” Her shirt was bunching under her arms as
his hands moved higher. “Here,” she said, rising up on her elbows and sliding her shirt off. “It will be easier like this.”
“Yeah. That’s better,” Zack replied huskily.
He worked expertly now on Eva’s shoulders, his thumbs forming a slow, circling symmetry, moving to the bottoms of her shoulder blades, then out to the sides. His fingers gently rested on her skin, slipping lower as his thumbs moved outward, until they were grazing the edges of her breasts. He moved his thumbs up and down in longer strokes, his fingers continuing to brush her side, sliding up in a slow symmetry which brought his hands back to her breasts. It took all Eva’s self control to keep her breathing steady despite the warm throbbing between her legs. Zack’s hands moved down her back, ending up just above her waistband.
“Do you want me to keep going?” He breathed. “If you can push this fabric down a little, I can get to where the spine meets the tailbone.”
Taking the hint, Eva unbuttoned her jeans and pushed the waistband down just an inch.
Zack froze for a moment, taking in the black lacy panties that she was wearing, trying to resist the almost overwhelming urge to pull her jeans right off. Then his hands resumed their slow circles, moving lower down her spine. Eva’s could no longer keep silent, her breathing coming in ragged gasps, Zack’s strong hands heading lower, down under her jeans, and then under her exquisite black panties. Beneath, she unbuttoned her jeans completely, allowing him to slide both hands in, cupping and squeezing her ass. OK, sailor . . . Here we go . . .