by Ruby Ryan
BANG BANG BANG.
A fist on the door of Terrance's apartment, demanding entry. My first instinct was to run, that it was the cops and they'd found us and we were about to be arrested. But I couldn't leave Sam...
"Yo, Terrance! Open up!"
"Shit," Terrance said, striding from the kitchen. "It's my dealer dropping off a bag."
Relief cascaded over me, but only for a second.
"You two've gotta hide." Terrance spoke in an insistent hush. "Get out!"
I looked around the room. "Where?"
"Terrance. Don't leave me standin' out here in the hall..."
"Get in the back, that room with the closed door." Terrance bent over Sam, pulling him up and then cringing when the towel fell away. "Go! And don't make any noise. My dealer's paranoid as fuck."
Sam's feet held a little bit of his weight, and I was able to guide him down the dark hallway and through the door at the end. I took one last look at Terrance, whose hand was on the deadbolt, before closing the door.
We were in what should have been a bedroom, but was filled with a maze of cardboard boxes of all sizes. Videotapes, CDs, and Blu-rays were stacked in the nearest one I could see; another held an array of brown leather jackets. It was like a thief's wet dream. And aside from all the stolen stuff, it was shockingly clean in here, in stark contrast with the living room. Of course Terrance would keep the stolen merch spotless.
There was barely enough room to walk, so I guided Sam to the closet adjacent to the door. Brown and white fur coats were piled on the floor, but there was room. I helped Sam down into a prone position, then closed the closet doors because it made me feel safe.
The voices through the wall were muffled, but I could barely make them out.
"...the cops," the dealer said.
"They're not looking for me, and that's all I know," Terrance insisted. "I swear..."
"I don't believe you!" The dealer sounded violent. I wondered if he had other men with him. "I show up here and the cops do too? You're the only one who knew I'd be here, Terrance..."
I was holding my breath. Fuck, if anything happened to Terrance because of me...
Suddenly, a hand grabbed my arm and spun me around. Sam's eyes were wide, and his grip was strong on my arm. I put a finger to my lips.
"How're you feeling?" I whispered, but his stare was intense. Almost angry.
"You," he growled.
"Shh. We can't make any noise."
"Why?" he asked, still way too fucking loud for comfort.
"Relax. You were unconscious, and naked, so we dragged you--"
"No," he cut me off with a syllable. "You're gunna rob me. Again."
I realized what he meant. He'd heard the deal I made with Terrance in the other room. And he felt betrayed by it.
Felt betrayed. Not sounded. Because somehow, there in that dark closet, I could feel his emotions. He wasn't afraid, or in pain, or even angry. He was hurt by what I'd said to Terrance.
"Bro, they're down the street," Terrance insisted in the other room. "Nowhere near here. Listen, I've got the cash for the bag..."
"Fuck you, Terrance!" the dealer yelled.
Inside our dark closet, Sam said, "How could you?"
"Shut up!" I hissed, putting a hand over his mouth. His lips were soft and warm. "They're in the other room, and something bad is about to happen."
Sam leaned forward and grabbed me by the arms, and the motion threw me back onto the fur coats. Sam fell on top of me, pinning my arms out to the sides. With him holding me down with easy strength, and his nude body covering mine, I felt a strange tingle run up my spine.
"Why?" he asked again, his sapphire eyes only inches from mine in the darkness. The muscles in his shoulders bulged in the dim light.
"To save you," I whispered. "He was gunna dump you outside for the cops to find. Or worse. I was just trying to buy you some time."
He wouldn't believe me. Why would he? I was just some thief bitch who'd stolen the most precious item in the world from him, and was planning on robbing him more. It would have been stupid to believe I'd saved his life because I felt a bond with him, even though it was the truth.
But instead of arguing with me, or calling me a liar, Sam kissed me.
His lips were as warm on mine as they'd been on my hand, and his tongue tasted like peppermint. I melted underneath him, his gorgeous lithe body with the wonderful tattoos pressing against mine. I wanted it, and needed it, and hadn't known it until just then.
He let go of my arms, and I ran my hands through his dirty blond hair and held him there, demanding that he never stop kissing me.
Sam's hand reached inside my coat, running along the shirt, searching for an opening. He slipped it underneath and up, along my ribs and to my bra and I sighed at his touch. He squeezed me above the bra and maneuvered himself in between my legs, and I spread them for him as he kissed me harder.
There was still shouting coming from the other room, but neither of us cared.
I shoved my tongue into his mouth and moaned as it danced with his own. His nose pressed against mine in wonderful symmetry, and I squeezed his hair in my fist while his fingers ran back down my belly swiftly, unable to delay. He rubbed my sex through my pants and I made a noise deep within my throat, and spread my legs more for him, surrendering to him. I moved my palm down his neck, savoring the ripples of the lean muscles in his back. He was thrusting into me then, a delicious warmth against my thigh, so I used my other hand to reach down between us, fingernails stroking along his shaft and making him squirm. Then I grabbed him, squeezed him, and began stroking him, imagining him inside of me instead of out.
Sam broke the kiss to look into my eyes, and for a moment we were one mind.
He pulled back enough to grab at my belt, and I quickly reached down and helped him, lifting my ass so he could slide the pants off me, then my panties. The fur from the coats tickled my ass and legs but I didn't care, because then Sam was pressing back down on top of me, and the head of his long cock was rubbing against the opening of my sex, and I moaned even though I was trying to stay silent.
"I want you so bad," he said in the darkness.
I pulled him into me in response. I was wet enough that it didn't take much effort, one inch, then another, then he was all the way inside and I felt the incredible ache of being filled, the tiniest bit of pain overwhelmed by the pleasure of his enormous cock.
"Ohhh..."
He kissed me again without moving, merely remaining inside of me, allowing that moment of coupling to last forever. His beard tingled against my chin, and lengths of his hair fell across my face like a curtain.
He began moving, a slow retreat at first before sliding back inside, gyrating his hips to hit all of my walls. Then I could feel his desire, his raw need for me, and he moved faster and faster while I pushed up against him.
In the other room, Terrance and his dealer spoke softly.
I exhaled a grunt with each thrust, my entire body tingling as he slid on top of me, blanketing me with his inked skin. He closed his eyes in the dim light as he fucked me, long strokes to go with his long cock, steady wonderful incredible friction of our precious parts. I tried to stay silent but it was a battle, and a groan escaped my lips against my will, and Sam pressed a finger over them and grinned wickedly. But that only turned me on more, and I was rolling on the fur coats with him, my entire body moving in time with his, a horizontal slow dance while we tried to make as little noise as possible.
His breathing sped up, his eyes becoming more strained as the pace increased. The way his pelvis grinded against my clit with each thrust filled me with ecstasy, and my pleasure was mirrored back into Sam's, a feedback loop of lust. We rose toward our climaxes together, a wave that lifted me high into the air and dropped me just as suddenly, and Sam's eyes widened too as he fucked me harder with his last strokes, and he opened his mouth wide in a silent roar of pleasure.
I gasped, and shuddered, and had to bite my lip from screaming as
we came, and when we were done I pulled Sam's body against mine to feel every inch of him because it hurt to feel him go.
9
SAM
Was there a Stockholm Syndrome equivalent for sex? Cause that's what this was like.
I now lay on the fur coat floor, with this woman's body flat on top of mine, chin and cheek against my chest. I watched her rise and fall with my breath in the darkness, enjoying the pleasing weight of her on my body.
She was a thief. And she'd taken me to her drug dealer's place, or whoever this was. Someone who wanted to rob me--that was an important distinction. As if picking my pocket wasn't enough.
And I'd just had sex with her.
I'd been unable to stop myself. She was so beautiful then, face illuminated by the dim sliver of light coming from between the closet doors. Something had come over me. I didn't care that she'd stolen from me, and wanted to do so again.
Even now, in the calming afterglow of sex, I didn't much care.
There was too much to process, a deeper part of my brain knew. The totem, and having it stolen at the airport. The pain of being distant from it, like individual hairs slowly plucked one at a time. The strange bond I felt for this woman, whose name I didn't even know.
And, you know, the crazy gryphon stuff.
Oh my God, flying had felt so amazing. I could still remember the sensation of the wind as I dove, pressing my feathers flat against my wings. Flexing muscles that had long been unused. It was a pleasure all its own.
It didn't make sense, and it was pants-on-head crazy, but it was amazing. And the animal rumbled in my chest to do it again.
"I wasn't gunna rob you," the woman whispered into my chest.
"Huh?"
"What I said to Terrance. I was just trying to buy some time. I didn't actually want to rob you."
And even though the words would have been terrifying in any other context, hearing them now calmed me. I believed her. I knew it was the truth.
See? Like sex-triggered Stockholm Syndrome.
"Technically, you already robbed me."
I felt her smile rather than saw it. "Yeah. Sorry about that."
"But I believe you."
Her eyelashes tickled my chest as she blinked a few times. "Good."
"Good," I agreed. There was laughter from the other room, which I took as a good sign.
"When are we gunna talk about the elephant in the closet?" she said.
I stroked her hair. "I'm sorry. I don't know what came over me. I felt so drawn to you, and just seized on it because I thought you felt the same..."
She twisted on my body and leaned up to give me a quick kiss. "Not that. That was great. I was talking about the bird thing."
"Oh. Well." I took a deep breath, which was tough with her on my chest. "That totem is a gryphon. A mythological creature, half lion and half eagle. The Greeks believed..."
She tapped her fingers on my left nipple. "Dude, that is so not the part of all of this I'm confused about."
I knew that, but it felt good to explain something. "I know as much as you do. I found that totem in Central America, and since then I've felt something inside of me. A buzzing, like a caged animal banging against the bars. And on the roof of that parking garage, it finally got out."
"Did it... hurt?" she asked. "It sounded like it hurt. I thought I could feel it, too."
"Yeah," I said. "It hurt. Like the worst pain I'd ever felt, except all over my body. But once it was over it felt... amazing."
"Amazing?"
"Like I was finally me, for the first time in my life. It just felt... right. I don't know."
She shrugged and rested her head on me again. "So you just found it in Central America? You didn't steal it?"
"In a cave in Belize. God's honest truth."
"You're sure you're not some mafia smuggler? Because you made some slick moves in that Mustang when you were chasing me."
This again? "I told you, I don't have a Mustang. I drive a blue Honda Accord, which is still parked in that garage."
"Then who..." she sounded worried, but then shook it off. She did a push-up to get off my body, and I felt a twinge of regret at no longer feeling her warmth.
She reached into her coat pocket and took out the totem. The sapphire glowed blue in the darkness.
"You can have it back." She thrust it at me.
My hand twitched to grab it, but I stopped myself. After she'd stolen it from my pocket in the airport, the feeling of being away from it was painful. I had to get it back in my possession, and I would have driven across the country to follow it if I had to.
But since changing into the gryphon, that feeling was gone. Replaced by something different.
"I don't think I want it," I said.
"Is that a joke?" she snapped.
I struggled for the words. "It feels better in your hands. Like it belongs there."
She gaped at me. "This is yours. I stole it from you. It's worth... fuck, I don't know how much!"
"I can't explain it," I insisted. "Don't you feel it too? That it's pulsing, happy in your hands?"
She hesitated, which was all the answer I needed.
"Plus, I didn't change into the gryphon until--"
I cut off at a bang from the other room. Footsteps drew near, and then there was a knock on the door to the room.
"Yo, Ezra. You can come out now." The steps moved back down the hall.
"Nice of him to offer carrying your unconscious body," she muttered.
"Ezra," I said, tasting the word.
"Yes?"
"I didn't know your name until then. It's pretty."
She leaned back and stuck out her legs to pull her panties on, then her pants. "I'm sure it's not the first time you've banged a girl without knowing her name."
"It is, actually." I blurted it out without thinking, and felt embarrassed afterwards.
But Ezra didn't make fun of me, and picked up one of the fur coats in the darkness. "Here. Put this on."
I cracked open the closet doors to give myself enough light to see. The coat was black and white, with pink stripes in the lining around the neck.
"It's a little late to be putting on Halloween costumes."
"Just do it. Trust me."
I did trust her, so I obeyed, closing it around me tightly and then following her into the other room.
The place was filthy, something I hadn't noticed in my barely-conscious state upon entering: food wrappers covered the floor, along with black lines of accumulated dust along the walls, and there was an ever-present smell of burnt food. Sitting on the couch was a fat black man with sweat coating his face, and a gun tucked conspicuously into his waistband.
His glowered when he saw me. "Aww hell no, get your naked ass out of that coat!"
Ezra stepped in front of me protectively. "He didn't have much choice. If only you were willing to lend him some clothes..."
Terrance hopped to his feet and brushed past us, grumbling about my pasty white ass.
"Your drug dealer's charming," I said.
"I barely know the guy. I've only been in Denver two days."
Before I could ask more, Terrance returned with a fistful of clothes. He tossed them at me without looking, and when I unfolded them I blinked.
"Jeans shorts? It's thirty degrees outside."
Terrance whirled. "Motherfucker, do you see how tall I am? I don't have anything long enough for your stork legs."
"Plus, you were wearing shorts at the airport," Ezra pointed out.
Terrance nodded as if that concluded the discussion. "Hurry up and get dressed and we can... take you home."
The pause was hardly noticeable, but it was there. Their shared decision to rob me. The gun-bulge underneath his shirt drew my eyes like a magnet.
I turned around and stepped into the shorts slowly.
It was two against one, if Ezra was on my side. But that didn't matter if he pulled the gun. Bad idea, especially with the tension thick in the air.
&n
bsp; Jesus, the idea of having a loaded gun in my proximity was terrifying by itself. I was an astronomy engineer! This wasn't in my wheelhouse.
The shorts were baggy enough that they covered my knees, and although they bunched up around the waist the belt held them tight. I slid out of my fur coat, handed it to Ezra, and then pulled the black T-shirt over my head.
"Look," I said, "I don't have much at my house, but I want to give you something. For saving me from the cops."
Terrance crossed his arms and said, "I'm listening."
"I've got about a grand in my bank account. Once I get home, I'll grab my spare debit card and withdraw it for you. Think of it as a reward for saving my ass." I gave what I hoped was a grateful smile.
It was risky, because all I was doing was dangling more loot in front of him. Giving him more incentive to rob me. But maybe a thousand bucks in easy cash sounded better than adding another crime to his rap sheet. I could see him doing the mental math, and said a silent prayer that he came out on the end I wanted.
Finally, he nodded. "Yeah, alright."
Of course, that didn't mean he wasn't going to rob me anyways. But we could worry about that when we got to my place. I took two steps toward him and extended my hand, and after a second he looked me in the eye and shook it. I hoped it was enough to convince him to let me pay him off peacefully.
Ezra asked, "So how far away do you live, anyways?"
"Well, that depends on where we are. My house is over in Cedarwood."
"Fuckin' fancy," Terrance muttered.
"That's what, eight miles from here?" Ezra reached into her pocket, but then sighed and said, "Fuckin' cops took my phone..."
And as she pulled her hand back out and turned, the totem slipped out.
It tumbled through the air before hitting the carpet, rolling to a stop against the couch with the sapphire facing up.
For a long moment, none of us moved.
Terrance came out of the trance first, snatching the totem off the ground and staring at it with wide eyes. "Holy fuck..."
"Just wait a second," I said, stepping forward.
Terrance had the gun out in a flash. "No," he commanded, as if he were speaking to a stray dog.