by Autumn Sand
Reclining his seat back and folding his hands under his head, he stretches and yawns. “Whew, bro, they wore me out.”
“Going back for more when we get back, aren’t you?” I don’t even miss those days.
“Hell to the fuck yeah I am.” He yawns again and gives me a toothy grin. “Wheeler expecting us?”
“Nah. Figured we would give him a surprise visit today.” One thing I learned in the Marines is the element of surprise.
Cracking his knuckles, he sits up in his seat. “Yeah, that’s just the way I like it.”
We arrive at Wheeler’s bar. The bartender’s head jerks up when he sees us. Manny, ever the goofball, puts a finger to his mouth with a smile on his face. Not bothering to knock when we get to his office, I swing the door open and it slams against the wall, startling Wheeler as he’s fucking a blonde with fake tits on his desk.
“What the fuck!” a now pissed Wheeler yells. The blonde pushes him off her and tries to cover herself up. Manny, always the gentleman, bends over to pick up her panties and tosses them to her. “What the fuck are you two doing here?”
A feeling of tranquility goes through me as thoughts of punching the asshole in the face rush through my head. “Thought we would pay you a little visit,” I say, as I take a seat in front of his desk. I try not to inhale the stale air that smells like ass and beer.
Zipping up his pants, he taps the blonde on the ass, indicating for her to leave. She rushes out the door, still trying to get into her dress without a backward glance. “Yeah, what about?” Wheeler straightens his back and lifts his chin, trying to seem intimidating and taller. If we were standing face to face, he would hit just above my shoulder, so it’s kind of hard to take this look seriously.
Manny leans against the wall, folding his arms, waiting for me to speak. This is my show, after all. “Cyma. She owes you a debt. A debt that you’ll now consider paid.”
Anger flares in his eyes. “Why the fuck would I consider her debt paid? She’s twenty-five in the hole with me. If I give her a break, everyone will expect me to do the same for them.”
I had a feeling he would say that. “Cyma is my woman. She falls under my protection. I expect you to extend her a courtesy.”
Wheeler stares at me for a moment. “A courtesy? You bust into my office and you expect a courtesy?”
Yeah, I was expecting that too. Predictability bores me. “Okay, how about trying this on for size? When she borrowed the money, this was under Ignacio. Ignacio is gone. All business has been moved to Tony. Since you work for him, he is…” I search for the right words. Nah, I know what the fuck I’m going to say; I just want to let my last statement linger in the air for a minute before I proceed. “Since you work for him, he’s telling you—not asking, but telling you—that you’re to deem this debt paid. If you do this, he’ll consider it a personal favor.”
Wheeler’s eyes narrow at my words. He glances over to Manny, who is still standing with a grin on his face, waiting for Wheeler’s response. He knows I have him. “Fine,” he says through gritted teeth.
Curiosity flashes over Manny’s face. We both look at each other, having a conversation without words. Standing and staring Wheeler in the eyes, I say the words that he’s often known for. “Nice doing business with you.” I signal for Manny to head toward the door.
Once back in my car, Manny lights up a cigarette. “Bro, you thinking what I’m thinking?”
“Yeah.” I rub my hand on my chin. “That shit was too easy.” I expected Wheeler to at least say something like he will get back to me. Or put up more of a fight. He just gave in. Something is off but I can’t put my finger on it.
“Especially for someone who supposedly has El Diablo backing him.”
“Exactly. Reach out to Magnum later and see if he has any more intel on Jay and Wheeler’s involvement with El Diablo.” I have a feeling that something is going down with the El Diablo connection and we need to get a handle on it.
“Already shot him a text.” Manny and I are both silent for the rest of the ride. We’re trying to figure out Wheeler’s next move. I drop Manny off at his apartment building, so he can pick up where he left off with the twins. We agree to meet up with Magnum and Tony tomorrow for a sit down. Damn, before Cyma, I would have been on the prowl for a piece of the action too. A thought comes to mind and I shoot off a text to my lady. She responds quickly, telling me that she will be at my place in two hours. Great, that gives me enough time to get what I’ve planned ready for her.
Two hours later, my loft in the Tribeca district in Manhattan is primed and ready for me to romance Cyma. Whoever thought an asshole like me would ever try his hand at the romantic approach?
As night begins to fall across the skyline, I give the loft my final inspection. The word perfection comes to mind. If I was a chick, I’d dig it. I’ve done what they call ‘setting of the mood’ with candles, dinner, expensive wine, and Coltrane playing in the background.
This will be her first time in my loft. We’ve spent the entire week at the hospital, and when we weren’t there, we went back to her sparsely furnished apartment. Being in her daughter’s room brought her comfort. Since our interlude at the spa, we’ve not been able to be together. A few kisses here and there, but our concentration remained on Lelia. Now that Lelia has stabilized, I plan on seducing my lady tonight.
There’s a soft knock on my door. Checking the loft one last time, I dim the lights and go to answer it. Opening the door, I’m stunned once again by how beautiful she is.
“You look amazing,” I say as I step aside to let her in. Hesitantly, she takes in her surroundings. “Make yourself at home. Feel free to explore. Mi casa es su casa.” I use my very limited Spanish as she turns to me and smiles.
“Your loft is breathtaking,” she says, standing in front of the window.
Coming up behind her, I wrap my hands around her waist. “No, the loft is just a loft. You’re the one who’s breathtaking.” Bending, I gently kiss the side of her ear. I feel her shiver in my arms and it makes my dick twitch. She slowly turns and wraps her arms around my neck and gives me a playful kiss. “Damn, you keep this up, we may be doing things in reverse.”
She leans her head back, our eyes lock, and she asks, “Reverse?”
“Yeah, reverse. I may have to fuck you first. Then we’ll have dessert in bed, followed by dinner.”
“Dessert in bed? Why not dinner after sex?” She smiles at me and I feel my dick fighting to free itself.
“Hmm, well, the original plan was dinner, then dessert in bed. Preferably dessert spread across your body while I eat every last drop.”
“Every last drop, huh? I guess your mama raised a good boy, eating everything on your plate and all.”
Fuck, that was sexy as hell, and I’m definitely down for having her as my dessert.
Taking her hand, I lead her to my king-size bed. “My mama didn’t raise no fool. I savor all my food. There are starving people in the world. No need to let good food go to waste.” I turn to face her. Pulling her into me, I feel her breath hitch in her throat as desire shines in her eyes. Or maybe that’s just a reflection of my wants and need for her.
Reaching her hand to the top of her head, she pulls out a clip that held her hair up and lets it flow down her shoulders. Fuck me! “Remind me to thank your mama one day.”
“Oh, baby, I haven’t given you anything to thank Mama for yet.” As I place soft kisses down her neck, she lets out a moan that, for me, spells ‘fuck me, fuck me now.’ “But trust me, when I’m through with you, you’ll be thanking her and every porno I’ve ever watched.” She giggles in delight at my comment as I unzip her dress and it falls to the floor. Standing before me in a bustier and G-string is the most exquisite woman I’ve ever laid eyes on. Imagining what I’m going to do to her tonight, I decide that red has officially become my new favorite color.
Noticing my gaze over her body, as I take her in from head to the toe of her red stiletto, she asks, “Like what you s
ee?”
Is that a trick question? “Fuck yeah.” My voice comes out as a low rumble.
Backing away from me, she lays in the middle of the bed, propping herself up on her elbows. “Shoes on or off?” she asks playfully.
No, really, is that a trick question also? “On. Definitely on. Wanna feel those heels when your legs are wrapped around my waist while I’m fucking you.” Bending her index finger, she beckons for me to come to her. I crawl up the bed until I’m hovering over her, getting ready to kiss her.
Placing the same index finger she’d beckoned me with on my lips, she shakes her head. “It’s my show tonight. Let me do this for you.”
“Do this because you want to, not because you feel obligated.”
“No, you don’t understand. I want to. I need to. I need you. I need to feel you inside me. I want it just as bad—no, I want it more than you do.” Sitting back on my heels, I contemplate her words. Kneeling in front of me, she kisses me as she unbuttons my shirt and pulls it down my arms, letting it fall to the bed. “I just need you, Dante.” Her kisses move down my chest and I feel as if I’m a sixteen-year-old, about to bust his load because a girl kissed him. Fuck, how did this happen to me? And what the hell have I been missing all these years? To think I used to laugh at shit like this, and now I can’t imagine not feeling this again.
Her small hands coax me to lie down on the bed and let her control the show. As she pulls down my pants and briefs, freeing what I like to refer to as Second Dante, or Second Tick, depending on my mood, her mouth forms into an O. Nine inches of Second Dante invites her to his party. Taking my cue that control is back in my hands where it belongs, I sit up and flip her gently to her back. She lets out a yelp. Once again, I’m dumbfounded by her beauty as I stare at her lying on my bed with her hair fanned out across the sheets. “Problem?” she asks.
“Never with you. My only problem at the moment is what position I want to start with. But I guess I’ll have to do this for now until I figure it out.” Grabbing her legs, I pull her down closer to me. Tearing away the flimsy G-string takes no effort on my end and she lets out a gasp. Shit, if that’s all it takes to turn her on, then I’ll gladly tear her panties off her every chance I get. Stock prices for women’s G-strings will be going up because she’ll be buying plenty.
Lying on my stomach, eye level with her pussy as her legs are draped over my shoulders, I begin light flicks of my tongue at her bud. She squirms slightly from pleasure while pushing herself further into my more-than-hungry mouth. She moans, most likely from the sensation of my five o’clock shadow rubbing against her clit, and my pulse quickens. I’m eager to get a better taste. Grabbing a firm grip of her hips, I hold her in place as I swirl my tongue around the lips of her pussy. Her back arches off the bed—yeah, my baby is ready for me. Before lifting up, my tongue takes one last taste as she lets out an “Ahhh.”
I’d grabbed a few packs of condoms, figuring we could work up a good appetite for dinner. My dick throbs to be inside this lovely creature that I’m about to claim fully as mine, my eyes feast on her beauty. Tearing the condom wrapper, I roll the condom down my length as her eyes grow hungry for more. Crawling up the bed to her parted legs, I almost want to have another taste before Second Dante gets his fill. Never knew a woman’s flavor could be so addictive. Positioning myself over her waiting body, I gaze into her eyes. With one look, this woman owns me, all of me. She reaches up and touches my face gently, playing with my chin. Twisting my face slightly, I kiss the palm of her hand and push into her.
The sudden movement startles her at first, but she adjusts quickly. Sex has always been just that for me, sex. But sex with her is not sex; it’s like needing air to breathe. I have to close my eyes and concentrate on not busting my load in her too prematurely. My movements in and out of her begin at a slow pace, but as she rakes her nails down my back and her stilettos spur me on, my slow pace becomes fast and frantic. Reaching my hand on top of the headboard for better traction, I fuck her with everything I have. Her pussy grips my dick harder and I know she’s close to her release. Sliding one hand down in between us, I rub my thumb over her clit and it sends her over the cliff with me falling right behind her. I come so hard my body spasms as I call out her name.
We’ve been lying in bed for several hours. With her in my arms, I feel as if I could conquer the world if I had to. Her stomach does a light growl. Fuck, I forgot to feed her. Well, I fed her in other ways, but I guess I should’ve fed her some food as well. “I’ll heat up the food.”
“Mmm, good idea. I’m starving. What did you make?”
“Make? I ordered some pad Thai from my favorite spot. How ‘bout I cook for you the next time?” I nibble on her ear as she squirms and giggles.
“Next time, I’ll cook. It’s the least I could do.”
“Deal, you cook. I’ll get dessert.”
“Oh, and here I thought you would be dessert.”
“Nah, I’m not sweet enough. But I do know what is sweet enough for dessert.” Moving down, spreading her legs open, I dip my head in for another quick taste before I get dinner.
Chapter 17
The World I Know ~ Collective Soul
Cyma
Waking up the following morning in Dante’s bed, I reach out for him, but he’s gone. I sit up and see him standing next to a desk, holding a picture. His shoulders are slouched as he stares at the framed photograph. He seems to be so lost in thought, I almost feel as if I am intruding as I watch him. Getting out of the bed, I reach for his shirt and put it on. I tiptoe to the bathroom and try to stay inside as long as I can.
Who was that a picture of? There is still so much about Dante that I don’t know about.
When I come out, he has already put the object of my discomfort away and is in the kitchen making breakfast. I offer to help, but he shakes his head and tells me to take a seat and relax. Doing as I’m told, I sit and watch him as he takes out various pots and pans. I really would like to know who was in the photograph, but I decide not to ask. I want him to want to share that with me freely. He finishes cooking and sets the table for us to eat.
“You didn’t have to stay in the bathroom, you know. I was just looking at a picture of my fiancée.”
I drop my fork and the loud sound echoes through the loft. My throat forms a lump the size of a cantaloupe. “Fiancée?”
He places his fork down and reaches across the table, touching my hand. I’m tempted to pull away from him. “She died, Cyma. She and my son died in a car accident.”
His words sink in and a cry escapes my mouth. “I’m sorry.” His expression is pained as he winces at my words. “When?”
“Ten years ago. She died on our wedding day.”
I stand up and go to him, pulling him into my arms as I cry for his loss. “Dante, I don’t know what to say.”
He pushes me away gently and holds my hands in his. “Nothing. I’m telling you this because I needed you to know.” Closing his eyes momentarily and reopening them, he continues. ”I’ve carried around the pain of losing them for so many years.” He lowers his head. “I tried running from it and it didn’t work.” He stares into my eyes and my heart skips. “But then I saw you in that alleyway. And I felt a connection to you, a connection I haven’t felt since I was with her. The pain of losing them will always be there, Cyma. But for the first time since that car accident, I want to live, and that is because of you.”
My heart breaks for his loss, but hearing that he wants to live because of me warms me. The realization of my feelings hit me and I stagger back. Concern flickers in his eyes as he stands, still holding my arms.
“I’m fine. Just got emotional.”
He remains staring at me for a long moment before pulling me into his arms. “I know this is a lot of shit to unload on you. This has been a whirlwind for you with me coming into your life, but it feels right and you know it does.” He searches my eyes for understanding. I give him a slow smile and his eyes relax.
“Yes, i
t does feel right, Dante.” We kiss and I feel it in my core as I’m swept up in it. “Tell me about her.”
He pauses before nodding. Taking my hand in his, we move to his couch and I sit on his lap as he begins to tell me about his childhood sweetheart. Watching him recall the details of their life together, I don’t feel like an intruder in the tale as I thought I would. I see the love in his eyes as he tells me about her. He explains why he joined the Marines and left his hometown. He says he was adrift for so long, not really feeling grounded or truly in touch.
I’m moved that he has shared this with me. Dante is a good man and I am lucky to have him in my life.
Chapter 18
Ebony Eyes ~ Rick James ft. Smokey Robinson
Tick
After I drop Cyma off at her apartment, my loft suddenly feels empty. I miss her in my home, my bed, just everything. I’m glad I told Cyma about Kayla and my son. Somehow, it feels like a weight has been lifted off me, a weight that I wasn’t aware was there.
Cyma has endured so much pain and she hasn’t given up. My thoughts drift between Cyma and Kayla, and before I know it, I am on the road to my small hometown where I grew up, in upstate New York. It’s always hard to return home and back to the memories of what could’ve been. But I need this visit. I know how much I’ve hurt my family by distancing myself, but I just didn’t know any other way.
Driving down the town’s main street, I pass the area of the accident. I’ve always avoided it in the past, but today I feel like I need to see it.
Parking my car, I get out and stand where I saw the EMT working on Kayla. I cover my face with my hands as I visualize her lying on the ground, covered in blood as they fought to save her life.
A sound of kids playing in the park across the street grabs my attention and my feet carry me toward them. Kayla and I used to enjoy coming here together; we even had our favorite spot by a tree. The day before our wedding, we sat under that tree and talked, not knowing it would be our last moment together. I had planned a picnic for the two of us that day. She complained that there was too much to do before the wedding, but I just wanted some time alone with my girl, so I coaxed her into coming with me. That was the last time I saw her alive.