Make Me

by Turner, Alyssa

  Kyle’s voice cut the air. “You always had it in you, baby. We just needed to help you let the wild streak free.”

  She grinned, though Kyle couldn’t see her. “I could say that you make me this way, but that wouldn’t be completely true.”

  She kissed Kyle again, deeply this time. Manny didn’t think he’d seen them kiss with such deep truth before. They parted and she held his face, her breathing hitched.

  Kyle swallowed hard. “You understand us so well, it’s fucking scary.”

  Rebecca nodded. “I know what you’re saying, Kyle…and it scares me too, but I’m working on that.”

  “I can’t even fucking put it into words what it means to me that you two would give me another chance. It’s not just because you helped me fix what was broken between Manny and me. It’s like I need you to make my days feel complete.”

  That solemn look in his eyes bored into Manny’s soul. The emotion between the two of them ballooned inside his heart. He swelled with joy, just knowing that their feelings were so strong. It felt like it might blow him to bits.

  “Untie him,” Manny said, pulling the belt loose from Kyle’s neck. He tugged his friend to his feet and grabbed a handful of his ass, pressing him close. Their cocks rubbed against each other, and Manny rocked his hips as he found Kyle’s mouth in an adoring caress. Then he grinned against his lips, casting a sideways glance in Rebecca’s direction and pulling her close too. “What are we going to do with her?”

  Kyle turned toward Rebecca, wetting his lips. “We’re going to turn her inside out.”

  Rebecca sucked in a sharp breath. Manny relished the way her hand wandered under her skirt. He and Kyle were on her then, pulling those impeding clothes away. He lifted her easily, cupping her ass in his hands. He pressed his cock into her, so wet and ready for him.

  “Oh baby, I know you’re on the pill, but please tell me you’ve been tested.”

  “Not since last year. But, I’ve never been unsafe. Not once.”

  “Testing is mandatory in the Corps,” Manny said, feeling his balls tighten with the idea of her hot, wet pussy surrounding his bare flesh. “Let us feel you, baby.”

  She rolled her hips, dragging her wetness over his shaft, driving him insane. “Come and get it.”

  Fucking vixen. Kyle was so right about that wild streak.

  “Hold on tight,” he said, trying to warn her, because there was a feral beast clawing its way out of him and all it wanted to do was fuck.

  Manny raised her up and rushed her down onto his cock. The noise she made as he seated himself inside her, balls deep, was nearly as erotic as the feeling itself. She was so damned hot. It felt as though she were searing his flesh with sensation. He raised her up again, catching his breath and willing himself to last longer than two strokes.

  Kyle slipped behind her, snaking his hand between her legs, grazing Manny’s balls in the process.

  “You ready for both of us, baby?”

  Rebecca’s voice was huskier than he’d ever heard it when she answered. “Do I feel ready, Kyle?”

  He hissed the answer. “Yes…so wet.”

  Manny felt Kyle’s cock rub against his. Those slippery passes of warm, steely flesh made his heart thunder in his chest.

  Kyle pulled Rebecca’s hair to the side and nipped her neck. “Who do you belong to, Rebecca?”

  A thick moan escaped her, and Manny knew Kyle had entered her. Manny growled and pressed her back onto his cock, sliding past Kyle’s as he withdrew.

  “Oh, God. You. I belong to you and Manny!”

  “Fuck yeah, you do!” Kyle growled.

  Manny recognized the crazed look in his eye, that look that made his stomach twist with need when it was leveled at him. Rebecca squeezed her legs around Manny’s waist as she panted in time with Kyle’s thrusts. Manny took her mouth and crowded his cock inside the impossible tightness that was her overfilled cunt. She shuddered against him, her eyes open, alert.

  “All yours,” she said, with a chopped rush of breath.

  Manny pumped into her faster, as fast as he could take it without busting. She cried out, her voice fluttering like a bird, higher and higher. He didn’t stop. Kyle didn’t stop. This would end with her falling to pieces in their arms.

  But the grip of her orgasm made Manny’s knees weak. He stumbled back to the dresser, crashing into it and knocking over the lamp, leaving Kyle to jerk himself to release.

  “You left me hanging? Oh, you’re going to pay for that.” Kyle said, half-laughing.

  Rebecca was laughing, guffawing actually. Manny kissed her, and she still sputtered against his lips.

  “I’m sorry,” she snorted, breathing through her giggles.

  “Woman, you almost crippled me,” Manny said, burying his nose in her neck and muffling his own chuckles. He mused over how comfortable she made him, never worrying about looking like an ass. He reached out to Kyle, who joined them in a very sticky three-way hug.

  “Help me make it up to him?” Manny asked.

  She smiled. “Until we all pass out.”

  Chapter Twenty-Three

  Rebecca kissed Manny good-bye as the elevator car announced its arrival with a cheery ding. It was a quick peck on the lips, the kind of kiss that took for granted there’d be a thousand more just like it in the future. Over the past few weeks back in Manhattan, cramped as they were, Rebecca had become convinced that this was real and was going to last.

  The elevator took Manny down, and Rebecca awaited the other car to take her up to the solarium.

  Wilson’s door opened. “Hey, Becca. How’ve you been? Long time no speak.” His smile thinned a bit.

  Rebecca suppressed a sigh. Every time she used the elevator there was a chance of running into him. “Hi, Wil. I’m good.”

  “Really? I’ve been following the senate race. Dirty stuff to be mixed up in.” He frowned a bit. “That’s why I’ve been calling. I’ve been worried about you.”

  Rebecca shifted her weight. They’d only been out twice, nearly six months ago. Two measly dates and somehow she got the feeling Wilson had it in his mind that there was still a chance for them. She’d put off this conversation for long enough. It was now or never.

  “Listen, Wilson, it’s not that I don’t appreciate your concern. I do. But I’m with Manny and Kyle. We’re together, and we’re doing great. You don’t need to worry.”

  “I’m your friend, aren’t I?”

  “Well, yes. We’re friends, but that’s all. OK?”

  Wilson pinched his wrinkled collar and rubbed it between his fingers. Rebecca thought he looked uncharacteristically disheveled. He sighed. “I’m not dense. I get it.”

  “We’re good then?”

  Wil paused, leaned against his open doorframe and pursed his lips. “Good enough to accept the autographed copy of a certain corporate legend’s autobiography? I had her personalize it and everything.” He added a tilt of his head. “Ms. Universal Brands herself had a meeting at the firm last week, and I thought of you.”

  Rebecca smiled graciously. “Um, wow, that was really sweet, Wil. You didn’t have to.”

  “You said we were friends, right? Come on in for a sec. I’ll get it for you.”

  Rebecca hesitated, registering his twitchy smirk. “Um, I don’t want to interrupt your evening.”

  “No interruption, come on.” He grabbed her wrist and tugged her into the narrow vestibule leading into his apartment. Rebecca heard the heavy door slam shut before she could protest.

  “Wilson, what the hell?” she asked, rubbing her wrist. “That hurt.”

  He swiped the book off of the bookcase, opened it, and read, “To Rebecca. May you get exactly what you deserve.” He closed in on her, and she backed up against the door. “I’ve got to say, Rebecca. After your little tawdry affair with the two jarheads was exposed, I thought for sure you would come to your senses.”

  “You’re scaring me, Wilson…”

  “What? I thought you liked the tough guy act.
You certainly didn’t seem to care that we have lots in common—similar interests and compatible intelligence.”

  Compatible intelligence? What a weasel. Rebecca tried not to laugh in his face. She was one hundred percent certain it wouldn’t help her cause. “Wil, let me out of here or I’ll scream,” she said and meant it.

  “Why did you even go out with me those two times?” The hurt in his unfocused eyes seemed real. The white residue she could now see in his left nostril was hard to mistake. Coked out in a jealous rage was definitely not a good look.

  “I…I was new in Manhattan,” she stammered. “I thought you were nice.”

  The truth was she’d thought Wil was bland and shallow like a puddle you could see your reflection in—someone she’d never fall for in a million years. In short, she’d thought he was safe. Rebecca frantically turned the knob behind her back. He was pressed so close to her she had no room to budge the door open. How wrong she’d been.

  His expression bore the kind of drug-induced vacancy that couldn’t be read. He squinted, looking as though he struggled to concentrate on the here and now. “I thought you were the perfect woman for me. It’s…it’s not easy to find the right person…I don’t date a whole lot.”

  Rebecca began to panic. “You should find a woman who thinks of you like that.” She swallowed hard. “You’re a great guy.” He wasn’t a big man, but he could easily overpower her. She needed to talk him into letting her go.

  “Why can’t you see that I’m better than the two of those morons put together? Why won’t you give me a chance to show you how good I can be to you?” He leaned in to kiss her.

  Rebecca turned her face to the side and tried to duck around him. He grabbed her by the neck, and the force of his thumb against her trachea squelched any alarm she’d hoped to sound. He slammed her head to the wall and took the kiss from her anyway, forcing his tongue into her mouth.

  Rebecca clawed at his face, and he smacked her hard with his free hand.

  “Fucking whore. Who do you think you are?”

  Rebecca was choking. The pain in her throat wasn’t nearly as terrifying as the lack of air.

  Wilson’s nostrils flared, and his eyes were wide and wild. She clawed at his hands.

  “Look at us. We could have been the perfect couple.” He pulled her away from the door and pressed their heads side by side in the wall mirror. “Look!”

  The move gave Rebecca enough room to thrust her knee into his balls. He released her, doubling over. She kicked him in the face. He stumbled backward enough for her to get the door open, and she ran like hell.

  * * *

  Kyle had never been so nervous in his life. He checked his pocket once again, just to feel the outline of three new keys pressed against his thigh. The Veritage’s vintage elevator took its sweet time climbing the floors. In a few hours he’d stand with his family in solidarity to accept Olivia’s election results, for better or for worse. Six weeks ago, the prospect of Olivia losing reelection was unthinkable. She was a shoo-in against the little known shill the opposing party had backed. Now the polls put Olivia more than ten points behind. Her struggles had started when everyone became more concerned about the strings she’d pulled to get Kyle and Manny assigned to the same unit than the congressional influence she’d promised to wield on her constituents’ behalf.

  Olivia was beside herself. No one had given much thought to the prospect of her losing, least of all Olivia herself. For all his hard work, Kyle thought he’d be more disappointed about the expected landslide. But for right now, it was his other family that he was concerned with.

  From a different pocket he pulled out a copy of Manny’s apartment key and opened the door. There was a note on Manny’s fridge in Rebecca’s bubbly script.

  I’m up in the solarium. Manny’s at the gym. Don’t worry, we voted this morning.

  He smiled. Even the little things, like notes left detailing their whereabouts, made him smile these days. The two black-eyed Susans in his hand needed water. Somehow they’d survived the trip back from Orange County that morning without wilting. Kyle put them in a tall beer mug and chuckled to himself, remembering the look on Mrs. Dawson’s face when he stepped into the village clerk’s office with an envelope of cash. Arrangements through her realtor had brought her there bright and early. The $500,000 he passed her for the deed to the Bennett house nearly knocked her onto her bedazzled ass.

  He had two conditions for the sale: that she be out by the end of the day and that she keep her mouth shut about who had bought the home. He’d have movers pack up the house and send her things to her address in Florida. Mrs. Dawson had asked if he was kidding. He told her that cold cash doesn’t have a sense of humor.

  The house was his. But what did he need with a four-bedroom historical home forty-five minutes from Manhattan? Nothing, if Manny and Rebecca didn’t say yes. He put the flowers, plucked from his new garden, on the windowsill and checked his watch. There was plenty of time to get to the Grand Plaza Hotel where his parents and Sam would gather for the final election results. As soon as Manny and Rebecca returned he’d ask them officially to move in together in their own place, and he prayed he’d get the answer he wanted.

  * * *

  Apparently the Veritage Association’s November newsletter contained more than the usual Mahjong dates and birthday wishes; it also contained a notice that the gym was closed for renovations. Manny stood at the concierge desk without the sweat he’d expected to break.

  “Ronald, you wouldn’t know when the gym will be reopening, do you?”

  Ronald gave Manny an apologetic nod. “I’m afraid they expect it to be out of commission until the end of the month.” He smiled sheepishly. “Longer than I’ll be here. Retirement awaits.”

  Manny missed the old guy already. “Hey, Ronald. That’s great. Congratulations.”

  Ronald smiled wider. “I’ve met a lot of nice people over the years. You and Ms. Sinclair included.”

  “Thanks, Ronald. The feeling is mutual.”

  Ronald lowered his voice. “I don’t normally talk about the residents in any bad light, but what Mr. Goodman did was simply unconscionable. I could lose my job for saying so, but at this point no one can stop an old man from speaking his mind.”

  Manny shook his head. “I’m sorry, who is Mr. Goodman?”

  “Wilson Goodman, your neighbor. He took…” Ronald cleared his throat, and his cheeks flushed. “Er…your friend’s phone from the desk; said he would run it up to him that night. I didn’t think anything of it until the next day when, well…I knew he was responsible.”

  Manny’s jaw locked. “Wilson had Kyle’s phone?”

  “If you plan to return someone’s property, you don’t go snooping through it first. I watched him on the elevator security cameras.” Ronald lowered his eyes. “I’d have said something sooner, only my retirement application was still pending and he’s on the condo board. Thirty-two years I’ve been doorman at the Veritage. I need my pension.”

  Manny fished in his pocket for his phone. “I understand, Ronald.” He was already off to the elevators. “Good luck to you.”

  “And to you, Mr. Tescadero!”

  Kyle picked up on the second ring. “Dude, it was that slimy fucker Wilson who took your phone. He’s the one who handed our pictures to the press.” Manny mashed the elevator button as though it might understand the urgent need he had to flatten a certain pencil-neck loser.

  “Where are you?”

  “In the lobby, on my way up.”

  “I’m just getting out of the shower. Let’s see if that dickhead is home.”

  “Roger that,” Manny said, feeling his rage slip over him like a familiar specter. He could kill him. It wouldn’t be the first life he’d taken.

  Manny shook his head. No, this wasn’t war. Revenge needed a leash in the civilized world, and he didn’t need any more blood on his hands. They’d scare him a little, shame him, make him regret the day he was born.

  He exited the
elevator to see Kyle approaching with wet tousled hair and bare feet. He’d tugged on one of Manny’s US Marine Corps T-shirts and a pair of basketball shorts.

  Manny stopped in his tracks. “Hold on. Let’s not do anything stupid.” Being arrested for assault on his mother’s election night wouldn’t be good.

  Suddenly, Wilson’s door opened, and Rebecca darted out into the hall with a scream for help. Tears ran down her cheeks, and the chilling fear in her eyes had Manny’s stomach dropping through the floor.

  “Fucking whore!” Wilson jumped out after her, and while Rebecca ran to Kyle, Manny shoved two hands in Wilson’s chest and pushed him back into his apartment.

  Manny faintly registered Kyle asking Rebecca if she’d been hurt. “What did you do?” Manny seethed. “You motherfucker! What did you do?” Manny’s hands were around Wilson’s throat, holding back the answers he was afraid to hear.

  “Oh God! Manny, stop!” Rebecca screamed from the doorway. “Baby, I’m OK.” She touched his arm.

  Manny inhaled and felt the burn of fury singe his lungs. Short puffs of air escaped his clenched teeth. “He hurt you.”

  Wilson struggled in his grasp. Manny tightened his fingers.

  “No. He tried, but he didn’t get the chance. I’m fine.”

  “Don’t do this, man. He’s not worth it.”

  Manny felt another hand on his arm, and he began to loosen his grip around Wilson’s neck. Turning toward Kyle’s voice, his swirling rage started to dissipate. He’d seen enough death in the war.

  “You’re right. He’s not.”

  Wilson tore away from him, coughing and scrambling to the furthest point in his apartment. Manny noticed the pile of cocaine on the dining room table that separated Wilson from the rest of them. He shoved his hands into his pockets, thinking they were probably safer there. “What do you mean he tried?”

  “Baby, should we call the police?” Kyle asked.