by Marni Mann
“Don’t be sorry,” he said. “Just tell me what set it off.”
As my eyes rose to his face, the jerking in my chest returned. So did the tightening in my throat.
I didn’t want to speak those words again. The ones I was beginning to hate.
But I had to.
“I can’t.”
Beard
The plane had braked hard as we landed and came to a stop at the end of the runway. I unlatched my seat belt as the flight attendant was walking down the aisle.
She touched Bond’s shoulder as she passed, then mine, and said, “I just need a second to unlock the door and release the steps. Then, you can disembark.”
Bond stayed seated, sipping on a bottle of water. He had only just woken up a few minutes ago. He’d slept the last hour of the flight. Getting his dick sucked must have really tired out the old man.
“Where are you headed?” I asked as I stood.
He pulled his glasses out of his pocket and put them on. “Home.”
I had known that. I just hadn’t wanted to say the word.
His answer told me I didn’t have to invite him over, which was fucking perfect. I’d had enough Bond for today. And I had some shit to do when I got off this thing.
“You’ll be visiting us soon?” I moved toward the exit, folding my hand around the side of the plane so that I was halfway outside, and then I faced him.
“Month or so.” He stretched his arms over his head and straightened his shirt. “You know I can’t stay away for long.”
I nodded and paused when he said my name. “Yeah?”
“I won’t bring it up again.”
I continued looking at him, but I didn’t respond. I didn’t have to; he knew that was what I wanted. “Good-bye, Bond.”
As I walked down the stairs, the flight attendant said, “I’ll see you in a few days, Beard.”
“You will,” I said over my shoulder. Then, I got into the car that was waiting for me.
Layla had all the paperwork that I needed to look over before our meeting with Panig tomorrow morning. Her text earlier today had told me to come straight to her condo when I got back into town. I didn’t want that to mean she was just working from home. What I hoped was that it meant her bed was more comfortable to fuck on than her desk.
I definitely hadn’t expected her to answer the door completely naked.
But it happened.
“Fuuuck,” I groaned.
My stare dropped to her heels and slowly moved up her thighs, hovering over her pussy. It was as close to perfection as a woman could get. Tight lips, bald.
Shit, I needed to eat it.
I then looked up at her tits. They were real, full, not too large, but enough to palm and fill halfway to my fingers. I finally traveled to her face.
“Jesus, Layla, you have a hell of a fucking body.”
She wasn’t tiny or skinny, and I didn’t want her to be. I wasn’t attracted to women like that. I wanted meat, just the right amount to get lost in, and that was what she had.
“I didn’t think you’d mind that I wasn’t wearing any clothes.”
If she didn’t have a girlfriend, my hands would be all over her. But, in this case, I wanted her to tell me to touch her. And I wanted that to happen really fucking soon.
“Nah, it saves me from having to take them off.”
She lifted her heel and rubbed it over her other calf. “I can’t wait any longer.”
The stripper moved in behind her. Most of her was hidden by Layla, but I could tell she was naked, too. “I can’t either.”
Layla reached her hand out for me to grab. “Get in here. We have plans for you.”
We.
I didn’t know if I’d ever get used to that, but I liked it a lot.
When I stepped in, I held my other hand out and waited for the stripper to take it. If this was going to work, I had to play fair, and shit had to always be equal.
With her fingers around mine, we moved through the kitchen, living room, and into the hallway where I had stood, watching her finger herself. But we passed that room and went into another.
The shades were drawn, and a few candles were lit, so I could see their faces and all their skin.
The stripper led me to the end of the bed. “I know this is what you want,” she said, standing behind me, reaching for the buckle of my belt, while Layla crawled onto the mattress.
Layla stayed on all fours, moving higher, showing us a dead-on view of her ass. When she reached the headboard, she turned around and lay on her back. Her knees bent, and her hand rubbed up and down her pussy.
Fuck.
“Yes,” I growled. “It’s what I want.”
My belt was off. My jeans were around my ankles. I slipped out of my boots, and now, the stripper was working on my shirt. As soon as that hit the floor, she grabbed ahold of my cock and stroked it.
“Are you hungry?” the stripper asked.
“For what?”
“For my cunt,” Layla answered.
I looked over my shoulder and smiled at the stripper.
She rested her lips on the side of my beard and said, “I want you to put your face between her thighs, and I want you to eat it.”
“Fuck yeah.” I moaned—not just because I wanted Layla’s pussy, but also because whatever she was doing to my cock felt so damn good.
“Harder?”
“Yes.”
“Jesus, Layla,” the stripper said, “did you know he was hiding such a monster in his pants?”
“No, baby, but I’m happy to see it.”
When I faced the stripper, my dick slipped out of her hand, and it pressed into the middle of her stomach. “You’ve told me what you want me to do to her, but now, you need to tell me what I can do to you.”
She didn’t answer, so I reached my hand out and clasped her neck. At first, she fought the tight hold. Then, slowly, she began to relax and enjoy it. She did the same when I ran a finger between her tits and pinched her nipple. Her teeth drove into her lip, and she growled. Eventually, that sound changed into words where she was begging for more.
She was different from Layla in every way.
The stripper wanted to challenge my control, not surrender to it. When the girls scissored, I guaranteed she would be on top. She was the one who wore the strap-on. That wasn’t to say she didn’t like cock. By the way she pumped mine, I could tell that she enjoyed it all right. But, in their relationship, she did the dominating.
“You can fuck me in the ass.”
Mmm.
I really liked the sound of that.
Her ass was thick and snug. It was one of the first things I’d noticed when I saw her on the stage at the strip club. I couldn’t wait to be inside it.
I dipped my head and licked one of her nipples. Her tits were so fake, they barely moved when I squeezed them. But, when she felt my teeth, she groaned.
“Your ass,” I said, biting so hard that I almost pierced her skin, “is fucking mine.”
“Yes, baby. All yours.”
I grabbed her by the back of the head and pulled her close to my face. I didn’t kiss her. I just wanted her to feel my breath on her lips.
“Go touch her.” I nodded toward Layla. “Make her feel good—but only from the waist up. Everything below that line is mine.”
“You got it.”
She crawled up the bed, the same way Layla had, and showed me what I was going to get to fuck. Her finger ran around the rim of that puckered hole, teasing my cock, making the wait almost painful. It looked so goddamn hot, and soon, it would be so slick that it would milk the cum right out of me.
She turned when she reached Layla, ending the tease, and the two of them kissed. Hands gripped chunks of hair, tits were caressed, and all I heard were moans.
They were busy, so it was time for me to eat.
I knelt on the bottom of the mattress, slid my arms under Layla’s thighs, and put my mouth on her pussy. Once I got a taste of her, I didn’t
pull away. I didn’t even take a breath. Motherfucker, her island scent was down here, too. And it was the flavor I’d been dreaming about.
“Oh my God!” she shouted.
I didn’t bother taking my time—blowing on her clit or only giving her the tip of my tongue. With how long I’d wanted this pussy, that would have only tortured me.
Instead, I flattened my tongue and ran it up and down her clit, making sure her lips stayed apart so that I could cover both sides.
When her hips started to buck, I gave her two fingers. She was so wet, they slipped right in, and I curved my hand up to reach that sensitive spot.
“Right there,” she hissed.
I smiled because she didn’t have to tell me. I didn’t have the same touch as the stripper, but I knew just as much about Layla’s body.
Fuck, I bet I knew more.
I pushed my tongue down a little harder, moving it faster, giving her the pressure she needed.
“Yesss, Beard.”
As I looked up, the stripper was licking Layla’s tits.
She was feeling both mouths, both tongues.
It was time to show her why mine was so different.
I sucked her clit into my mouth and held it between my teeth, flicking just the end. Then, I brought some of the wetness down to her ass and spread it all around her hole. Once it was lubed up, I stuck a finger inside. Her hips rocked back and forth, meeting me when I pushed in.
She was clenching, which told me how close she was, and moaning louder than I’d ever heard her, but she wasn’t screaming yet.
I wanted her to scream.
With one finger in her ass and two in her pussy, I pumped my fucking hand.
Her voice got louder, just like I’d wanted it to.
I bit down a little more, squeezing my lips around her clit before lapping it with my tongue.
“Oh my God, that beard of yours.” She gasped. “It feels so good on my pussy.”
She tightened more, her hips now really rocking, and I knew she was even closer to coming. I kept my eyes on her navel and increased my speed.
“So good,” Layla moaned again. “Don’t stop, Beard.” She ran her fingers through the stripper’s hair. “Bite me harder, baby.”
I watched the stripper use more of her teeth, and I did the same on Layla’s clit. I switched off between flicking and sucking, doing both so roughly, mixing the sensations. I knew she was feeling good when she rode my hand, taking in the length of my fingers and pulling back to their tips before driving them in again.
And then it happened.
Not just the orgasm that I watched rip through her.
But also the scream.
Oh, that scream.
It was so fucking perfect.
So was the cum that dripped from her and the way she bucked.
She took her time coming down, her stomach eventually stilling, her voice turning quiet. That was when I pulled my mouth off her, and the stripper released her nipple.
Both girls looked at me, Layla a little more satiated than the stripper.
“I want you,” the stripper said, “in my ass.”
“Mmm,” Layla groaned.
“And where do you want me, Layla?”
She seemed to think about that question. Then, she ran a finger over her clit and stuck it out for me to suck. “Here. In my pussy.”
I ate the wetness off it, licking the length to make sure I got it all.
When I pulled away, the stripper crawled over and stuck her tongue out. “Let me taste her.”
I leaned my face down, and she ran her tongue across my beard and sucked my lips. It was so goddamn hot.
“I need you,” she moaned against my mouth. “Make me come, baby.”
I looked down at her parted lips and could almost feel my cock between them. Then, I checked out Layla’s and felt the same.
Jesus, there were so many options.
Tyler
Four Years and Six Months Ago
Jae still sat so close, inches away in the seat next to mine, and continued staring at me. He wanted to know the cause of my panic attack. I couldn’t tell him, and I certainly couldn’t mention The Achurdy.
I didn’t even know this guy. Didn’t know his last name. Didn’t know anything besides that he liked his meat rare, his cheese sharp, and the same condiments as me. And I knew his loft was so much nicer than I’d ever expected a guy’s place to be.
Yet his hand was on my cheek, his thumb rubbing around my mouth, and I didn’t want this stranger to stop touching me. I wanted to beg him to keep doing it. There was something about the strength and warmth in his fingers that gave me a sense of calm. Fullness. Anticipation even. And I thought about what it would feel like to have his hand on the rest of my body.
I wished he could tell me I had a choice.
I wished someone would.
But there was no one.
“Tyler, you’re afraid because you’re not sure if you can trust me. You can. I promise you that.”
I shook my head, and his fingers fell from my face. I immediately regretted the movement.
“You don’t believe me,” he said.
I waited for his hand to return. It didn’t.
“It doesn’t matter if I believe you or not. I can’t tell you anything. I can’t even be here right now. In fact, I’m not here. I’m…”
He must have thought I was a head case. First, I couldn’t decide if I wanted to leave with him, and then I had freaked out on his couch and couldn’t breathe. Now, I wasn’t making any sense. But what I had said made perfect sense to me because, if I told myself I wasn’t here, it would make this affair feel a little more tolerable. If I could only convince myself that I’d never seen his sexy face, never felt his incredible strength, never experienced the tingle in my body that his presence had caused, I just might be able to forget this whole night had ever happened.
If I had extra powder, I would drug myself. But Mina kept a close inventory of how much she gave out and the amount we used.
I could do it without the drug.
I had to.
Because, if not, I would wake up in the morning and yearn for him. Jae would become the man I thought of when I went to bed, when I woke up, when I was with a mark but should be with him.
The one I had to let go of before anything even started because of my relationship with The Achurdy.
I would have to live with that.
But, if things went any further, if his lips touched mine, would I be able to stop him?
I didn’t think I could.
I had to get my shit together, so I could sort out all of these thoughts and come up with a plan.
“Can I use your bathroom?” I asked.
He still stared, never blinking, his face completely expressionless. His silence was enough. It told me he was disappointed that I hadn’t given away a single hint, I hadn’t told him my reasoning, I hadn’t told him anything more about me.
He pointed toward a room right off the kitchen, and I got up and locked the door behind me. There was only a toilet and sink in here. No medicine cabinet. No closet. No hidden bottle of booze or an extra Xanax hanging around. Not sure it would be appropriate if I took either at this point, but I just wanted something to ease the feelings that churned inside me.
I turned on the faucet and stuck my hands underneath the cool stream, letting the water wash the sweat away. Then, I cupped some in my palms and brought it up to my face, touching it to my cheeks. My skin was burning. My chest felt like it was going to explode. My breathing had returned, but it wasn’t back to normal. There was still a heaviness in my lungs that didn’t allow all the air to pass through. I didn’t know how to make it go away. I didn’t know how to make any of this feel better.
But that didn’t mean I could stay in here all night. I was already taking far too long in the bathroom, and I didn’t want him to come check on me. So, with nothing resolved, I turned the water off and walked out, my feet feeling weighty. I was more of a
mess than I’d thought.
Jae stood behind the metal island in the kitchen. An empty beer bottle was by the sink, and another one was in his hand. He was looking at me. It was the kind of stare I would never forget. A dangerous one. One that was so intense, I felt it all the way in my toes.
In a world where The Achurdy didn’t control me, I would return his hungry glare. I would walk over to the metal counter and straddle it, naked, begging him to touch and kiss every part of me.
It had been so long since a man did that with the kind of passion I thought Jae was capable of. Those deer, they were such selfish bastards. But, if I allowed Jae to graze my skin with even the roughest part of his hand, I knew it would be the end of me.
That was what my life had come to—endless noes without any hope of that ever changing.
If only I could go back to the beginning…
Poor, uncared for, and unloved by my family didn’t sound so bad anymore. Given the option, I’d trade everything I had for it—my apartment, my Jeep, my clothes, my shoes, all of it. I just wanted to go back to the time when I had been faced with that decision. Because, before that, I’d had the option to choose love. And, now, The Achurdy owned me, and they regulated my life. If I wanted to keep living, I would have to follow their orders.
I tried to take a deep breath. It was impossible. “I have to go, Jae.”
He set the beer on the metal and walked to the door. When he reached it, he turned toward me, looking at me with eyes that were so hooded. “I’ll drive you home.”
There were so many reasons he couldn’t do that.
I stood frozen in front of the bathroom and said, “You can’t.”
As he moved over to me, I sucked in a small breath and held it.
Please don’t touch me.
Please touch me.
Please don’t touch me.
My thoughts were all over the place, and I couldn’t make sense of them. I couldn’t predict what he was going to do. So, I backed up until I hit the wall of the bathroom.
“Jesus, Tyler.” He reached out and rubbed the back of my head where I had banged it on the wood. When his hand stilled, he left it there. “I’m not going to hurt you.”
“I didn’t think that.”