0-69 in 5 Minutes

by Jasmine Black

  How much crack had she smoked over the last few months? The woman brought in an easy grand a week. “Don’t you make that much in two weeks?”

  “I’m late with the rent, the water got shut off, and my boss suspended me for doing drugs at work. As if I’m the only one to use on stage. Can you believe that bullshit?”

  Val had promised him cash. In two weeks he’d have half the money to pay off Bambi's debt, and he had a small amount put back. The car in his shop would be finished by the end of the week as well, but she'd have to hide until then.

  His eyelids closed, and he shook his head. "I'll help you this time, but you have to promise me some things."

  “Anything.” Despite the drugs, her eyes lit up with the spark he'd fallen for eight months ago.

  “I'll get you the money, but it'll take me two weeks. You can stay here until then if you keep out of sight. Then when it’s safe, you have to go to rehab.”

  "Deal." She hugged him and kissed his cheek. "Do you mind if I shower?"

  "No, go ahead and clean up. I'll get you a towel." He watched her disappear into the bathroom, then went to the mudroom and switched on the dryer. Being a bachelor, he had no need to keep up with the laundry. Luckily, the last load of clothes he'd done were towels, and since old habits died hard, he’d warm one for her in the dryer like he’d done when they’d been married.

  After about ten minutes, he pulled out a warm fluffy towel and headed back to the bedroom. The water from the master bath ceased running when he entered the bedroom.

  "Bambi," he called as he knocked on the door. "I got you a towel." The door opened and a wet hand reached out.

  "Thank you." She took the towel and stepped through the doorway, drying herself off.

  Her skinny hips and thighs, flat abs, and freshly shaven pubic region made her lower half look almost anorexic. Yet she still had the double D cups he'd bought and paid for.

  A wave of desire flowed through him, and he longed to touch her breasts. Taste the sweet puckered nipples. What the hell? Val was his girlfriend now, not Bambi. He sighed. That wasn't true either. Val didn't really want him. Man, this shit confused him. Still, he closed his eyes and turned around.

  A hand slid down his back, leaving a chill in its wake.

  "You're welcome to look all you want." Bambi's voice sounded low and sexy. The voice she’d used when she wanted something from him.

  What more could she want? He’d agreed to give her the money and a temporary place to stay.

  She kissed his neck. Shivers drove straight for the finish line, which happened to be his cock.

  Last night Val had started a fire in him. If her parents believed them tonight, she'd have no need to tend to the blaze. And the blaze threatened to overtake his control.

  Bambi slid her hands around his waist and up his chest. "I've missed you."

  Her touch was familiar, experienced. For a moment he forgot the headaches she’d caused him. He gripped her wrists and spun around to face her. "I can't do this. And we're not getting back together."

  "Baby, shh." Soft fingers brushed over his lips. "You said I could stay for two weeks. When that time’s over, I'll leave. Until then," she gave him a practiced smile and brushed her fake boobs against him, "we can enjoy each other."

  She cupped his balls and rammed her tongue down his throat. Cheap wine lingered on her breath. He knew he shouldn't get involved with her again. But would one time really hurt?

  "This is a bad idea, and I'm late for an appointment." He tried to reject her advances even though he wanted to dive inside and slam her. Take the edge off before he spent the night lusting after Val.

  "It's just a fuck. I know you want to. Your cock's rock hard." She dropped her towel, scooted on the bed and spread her legs. Her tongue flicked across her lips, moistening them. "Fuck me, big boy. I’ve missed your hard, thick cock."

  Sliding a hand over her breast, down her stomach and stopping at her clit, she moaned and looked at him with fuck-me-eyes. Sparkles flashed from the diamond stud in her clit—another present from him. She fingered her pussy and rubbed the juices up her stomach so he could see how wet she was.

  He couldn’t stop himself. Need for a good hard fuck overrode the voice inside telling him to walk away. Within a few seconds he’d stripped himself of his clothes. The room darkened and spun as blood left his brain. He knelt on the bed, hoping the dizziness would subside. Bare knees touched cool covers.

  "Come on, baby. Slid inside and fuck me hard."

  He did as she asked. Her legs wrapped around his back. Moans and pants filled his ears. She bucked and met him thrust for thrust.

  Her breasts bounced with each stroke, and he wanted to touch them. After all, they were his, in a way. He cupped one and squeezed.

  “Keep your disgusting hands off my money makers; you’ll ruin them. Now fuck me harder!" she screamed. "Give it to me."

  Nails dug into his flesh as he pushed deeper, trying to satisfy her hunger. He pounded faster, but nothing ever seemed to be enough with her. She cried out over and over as he shot inside her.

  Disgusted with himself, he pulled out and sat on the edge of the bed.

  "See, we were made to fuck each other. Even if I didn’t come." She kissed his neck and walked to the bathroom.

  What had he done? Pure sexual gratification, that's all. He hadn't even used protection. They'd shared no passion, no concern for each other, no love. Both selfishly took what they’d wanted. Problem was, he didn't want that kind of sex anymore. It didn't even feel good to him. Or to her.

  Ashamed, he cleaned up and dressed. Then he prayed Val would never find out what had just taken place.

  * * * *

  Bree parked at the end of Val’s street, waiting for their parents. She wanted one more chance to sway their thoughts about Sam.

  When their Pontiac Grand Am passed, she pulled out and followed them to Val’s. She drove in behind them, parked and then gathered the side dishes. With her arms loaded, she headed straight for her mom.

  “Did you hear what I told you on the phone? The man’s a cross-dresser. Do you want children brought up in that environment?”

  “Bree, you of all people should be open-minded. Now, as long as he still has the parts to give me a grandson, I don’t care what kind of panties he stuffs them in.” Her mother shook her head as she walked to the door.

  “Mother!” She stomped after her. She wanted to protest further, but her mom had already rang the door bell.

  The woman was heartless. Val could date a cross-dresser and she didn’t care, but the minute she took a woman home, she turned her love to Val. Did she really want a grandchild so bad she didn’t care about her youngest child’s feelings?

  Val opened the door. “Come in. Come in.”

  “Where is he? I want to meet this new man of yours.” Their mother pushed her way in without as much as a hello.

  “Hello to you too, Mom.” Val looked after their mom as she wandered through the house. With a sigh, Val turned back to her and their father. “Hey sis, Daddy.” She gave him a hug and kissed his cheek.

  Val had always been his favorite little girl. That’s because she was fat and couldn’t get a date. Pathetic. A teenager staying home on the weekends playing cards with her father while the pretty girls had dates.

  “So where’s this Sam?” She wanted to see this man. Maybe he dressed in drag everyday.

  The house reeked of cleaner again, and made her want to vomit. How could anyone clean so much? Her sister needed a life, and obviously Sam failed to produce it if she had enough time to wax the fake fruit.

  “He’s on his way. He’ll be a little late.” Val took a dish and led everyone to the kitchen.

  “And what about you? Are you late?” Their mother stood tapping her foot.

  The woman obsessed over grandbabies. Bree clinched a fist and tightened her lips. For as long as she could remember, their mother had pressed them to get married and have children. And as each year passed, she pressed harder
. She set them up on blind dates, hid birth control pills, and bought them subscriptions to Playgirl. After she’d told her mother she was bisexual, the woman sent her pamphlets from sperm banks.

  Val shook her head. “Daddy, can’t you talk some sense into her before Sam gets here?”

  Their father shrugged his shoulders and rolled his eyes. “Don’t hold your breath, pumpkin.”

  Bree clenched her jaws to keep from saying something she’d regret later. Why couldn’t things be like they used to? Back when Val had been the chubby one, and she was the pretty one. The one who showed promise. The one who got their mother’s attention, trips to the spa, new clothes and anything that would increase the odds of her bagging a man.

  Just then, the door bell rang.

  “Mother, behave!” Val left the kitchen to answer the door.

  Their mom’s eyes lit up like a child’s on Christmas morning. Bree gritted her teeth. She wanted to be the one to put the sparkle in those icy blue eyes. One way or another, she’d find a way.

  * * * *

  Noah gave Val a hug and a kiss on the cheek. “Do you think we can do this?” he whispered in her ear.

  “We have to,” she whispered back and took the bottle of wine he handed her.

  “Pumpkin, where do you keep the tongs?” a male voice hollered from the other room.

  “I’ll be right there, Dad,” she called out to her father. “Sorry. Have a seat while I put this in the kitchen and help my father. Maybe you can have some peace and quiet in here. Dinner will be ready soon.” Val left him standing in the doorway, knots twisting in his stomach.

  He closed the door and tried to make himself comfortable on the couch. An older version of Val walked into the living room. She was shorter, probably about five-four with short brown hair, professionally styled. Gold jewelry adorned her neck, hands, ears and wrist. She wore a pair of tan slacks and a black, short-sleeved, form fitting belted sweater.

  “So, you’re Sam. I’m Judith, Val’s mother.”

  Judith sat down next to him on the couch despite the other chairs in the room. He smiled politely, though every muscle in his body tensed. Could she smell another woman on him? God he hoped not.

  “That’s me. Sam.” He cleared his throat. “Nice to meet you, Judith.”

  Footsteps sounded in the doorway, and another woman entered, younger than Val, about the same height but blonde. Her curves were softer, not as muscular. While she would have turned his head on any other day, somehow he didn’t think she was as beautiful as Val. Her eyes didn’t sparkle nor did they ignite a fire in his loins.

  “And I’m Bree, Val’s sister.” Bree sat down in a chair across from him. “Tell us Sam, what do you do?”

  A lump formed in Noah’s throat. Think. He couldn’t remember what Val said his job was, or even if she had told him. They were doomed before dinner had been served.

  Bree leaned in. Her blouse cut so low he had to divert his eyes to keep from seeing her boobs.

  “I don’t mean your day job.” She waved her hand through the air. “I mean your weekend job. What’s it like to be in front of all those people, watching you?” A smile lit up her face.

  He relaxed and let out a breath. Now that he could talk about. Val must have told them about him drag racing.

  "I never really think about all the people. I get so caught up in the thrill and the excitement. The smell of fresh grease and oil. The lights.

  People watching me perform and supporting something I love to do is an added bonus."

  She wrinkled her nose in disgust. Maybe grease and oil repulsed her. She'd been interested in his hobby five minutes ago. But she did appear to be a high maintenance chick.

  "So, you perform for the sheer joy?" Her smile returned and something flashed in her eyes.

  Excitement? Intrigue? Or was she flirting with him? Right in Val's home and in front of their mother. He swallowed hard and tried not to send out the wrong vibe. "I love to drag. I do it every chance I get."

  He didn't want Judith to think his and Val's relationship suffered all ready, so he flashed his boy-next-door smile at her. Mothers loved it, and he hoped to win over her parents. The stakes had risen in the last few hours and he needed the money to get Bambi out of trouble. Not to mention, out of his house.

  Judith quirked one eyebrow and sized him up from head to toe. Her gaze lingered on his crotch.

  He squirmed and swallowed hard. Did she sense another woman on him?

  "What about the clothes? Do you go all out?" Bree asked.

  An odd question. Perhaps she thought the local drag strip was more like NASCAR, but it was just a small time operation. He did know one guy who wore custom made gear, but he was the exception. Some guys had t-shirts made for themselves and their crew, but most wore street clothes. Of course, everyone wore some form of safety gear: helmet, gloves and what not. "No, I don't wear anything custom made. I just wear things I would every day. Nothing flashy. Normal clothes I wear around the house. Comfort is the key to a good showing as well as the right equipment."

  "So just every day things you wear around the house?" Bree chuckled.

  “Well,” he felt his cheeks warm, “I do have special underwear made for protection.”

  “Protection or concealment?”

  "Bree! Enough. Leave Sam alone. He's comfortable with drag and clearly Valerie is too." Judith turned back to him. "You'll have to excuse her. She's not comfortable with your...um...hobby." Her voice rose and emphasized hobby.

  So, Bree sickened at the dirt and grime; a high maintenance gal all right. Maybe she'd change her mind if she came out to the track. "The best way to understand a new thing is to give it a try. Have an open mind and see for yourself. Why don't all of you come out and watch sometime?"

  Before the women could answer, Val entered the room.

  "I hate to break up this conversation, but dinner’s ready. Dad's getting everything off the grill as I speak."

  Val wrapped her arms around him as Judith dragged Bree from the room.

  "Things seem to be going well. I'm sorry I left you with sharks."

  She kissed his lips, and his stomach knotted again, hoping she couldn't smell or taste another woman on him.

  "Sam, you get to sit by me," Judith called to the living room.

  A good sign, but he still had to win over Mr. Jordan. Val took his hand and led him to the dinning room table.

  "Sam, this is my father, Hank. Dad this is Sam."

  "Hello, sir." He shook Hank's hand-a good firm grip-and Hank nodded.

  Her father was a tall man. His short hair showed gray patches. Wire rimmed glasses framed his eyes, and he had a friendly smile.

  Noah's muscles tensed. He had to pull this off. Luck had saved him with Bree, but Val could have said anything over the course of six months. Acting like someone else terrified him. Yet he had no choice. Bambi couldn't hide forever. The dealers would find her, and the smacks she'd already taken wouldn't compare to what they'd do next time.

  Clearing his throat, he pulled out a chair and sat down. Judith began dishing food on his plate. He found that a bit odd, but went with it.

  Val rubbed his leg under the table and mumbled from the side of her forced smile. "Humor her."

  "You have got to try my special pasta salad."

  He turned his head back to Judith, and she shoved a forkful of pasta in his mouth.

  Something tasted funny. Chewy. Slimy. His tongue began to tingle and swell. With a dry throat he managed to ask, "What's in the pasta?"

  “Oysters.” Judith smiled wickedly and wiggled her eyebrows. "It's an aphrodisiac."

  “Mother!”

  Oh no. His chest tightened and his lungs burned. It was happening all over.

  “Val, call 911. Then get my epinephrine out of my jacket pocket and give me a shot.” He hoped the instructions came out clear before the anaphylactic shock took over. Panic flowed through him and the room began to darken.

  He grabbed the edge of the table and stood. As
he fought to catch his breath, voices mingled together and faces blurred. His knees buckled. Oh God, not again.

  Chapter 6

  Noah's body slumped over as his eyes closed. Val scurried to catch him before he fell and split his head open. He dropped, limp, in her arms and she struggled to hold his body.

  "Bree, call 911. Dad, help me lay him down. Mom, search his jacket for his kit." God, help me know what I'm doing!

  When they had Noah lying on the floor, she took the kit from her mom and opened it up. She read the instructions, ripped open packages, and assembled the syringe. According to the kit, she could stick the needle through light-weight clothing. However, she wasn’t sure if denim qualified as light-weight.

  She unzipped his pants and tugged the waistband down low enough to expose his thigh. His wallet and a condom fell to the floor.

  Her mom knelt down and picked up the packet. “You’ll never get pregnant using these.”

  “Now is not the time!” With a shaky hand she stuck him with the needle. At least he couldn't feel it bite into his flesh. Didn’t some people die from shellfish allergies? God, let him be okay.

  Bree rushed back into the dining room. “The ambulance is on its way."

  "Get something to prop up his feet." She rubbed his leg where the needle had entered, as the instructions indicated.

  "Is he going to be all right?" Her mother searched for a pulse.

  "I don't know, Mom." She prayed he would be as tears formed in her eyes. This mess was all her fault. If she hadn't lied, her mother wouldn't have tried to enhance Noah's libido, and he wouldn't be fighting for his life. Guilt struggled to the surface of her emotions once again, but now was not the time. She had to stay calm for the sake of Noah’s life.

  The front door opened and her father guided the EMTs to Noah. In a matter of seconds, two men in blue uniforms swarmed around his motionless body. They did a quick check of his vitals, strapped him to a gurney and wheeled him out.

  Grabbing his wallet, she ran outside. With precision, the men lifted him in the ambulance. She climbed inside next to Noah seconds before the driver closed the doors.

  Cramped in the narrow space, her knees pushed into the gurney. She took his hand, hoping he knew someone was with him.