Indulge

by C. D. Breadner

  He let her work him for a little while, but he didn’t want to be too far gone. He caught her wrist with a snarl and she gasped, letting him roll her to her back without a struggle. He cupped her breasts with both hands. Jesus, they were beautiful. One hand played with a nipple as his mouth paid special attention to the other, both of them hardening immediately. When she was good and squirming he kissed his way across her soft, feminine belly.

  “I don’t have time for that,” she was gasping, and he grinned, ignoring her. There was no way he wasn’t doing this. He liked it too much, and so did she.

  He groaned at the taste of her, tongue sliding over her clit, lapping at it to get her warmed up. Although, she was plenty primed. He just liked her crazy with the need before he really gave it to her. When her legs started writhing he closed his mouth over that bundle of nerves, sucking and tonguing while she cried out. Fuck, he loved that sound.

  “Delicious,” he grumbled, kissing his way to her mouth again as one hand groped over her nightstand to find a condom. At some point it would be nice to not have to use them, but it was a bit soon for that. “All right honey,” he said, fixing the rubber in place. “How you want this?”

  She laughed, wrapping her arms around his neck as he lowered his weight onto her. “I don’t know.”

  “You started it,” he reminded her, sliding a hand up the back of her thigh to hook her leg around his hip.

  “Like this,” she told him, eyes on his, smiling.

  “Slow?”

  “We don’t have time for slow.”

  “Rough?”

  She bit her lip and her eyes flashed.

  “Say it honey,” he advised, posed and ready for entry. But not until he heard the words.

  “Buck,” she whined, trying to ease onto him.

  He grinned, backing off. “Not until you say it.”

  She swallowed, cheeks turning a bit pink. Then she panted out, “Fast and hard. Please.”

  The please wasn’t done before he pushed into her, closing his eyes at the warmth and grip of her. He hooked his arms under her shoulders, lowered his face into the spot where her neck and shoulder met, raised his weight up on his knees and gave her what she’d asked for. She tightened her arms around him, mouth on his collarbone, teeth digging in the closer she got to orgasm.

  He got that sound again, the loudness ringing off the walls as she cried out, nails digging into his back, tearing him up. He stilled, liking how it worked through her head to toe.

  Buck gave her a chance to recover, then rose up to settle on his heels. She looked startled, then he shoved upward on her thighs, knees almost next to her ears, and plunged inside again.

  “Buck!” she gasped out, head going back, eyes wide. “Holy shit.”

  He grinned, holding her in place, watching her body accept his inside. When her leg muscles clenched under his hands he knew she was close, so he dragged his eyes to her face. She was biting her lip, brow furrowed. The sounds she was making were almost frustrated.

  “Touch your clit, baby,” he growled.

  She whimpered.

  “Do it, Gertie.”

  With a tentative motion she lowered her hand, and he watched it.

  “Let me lick you, honey,” he instructed, and her hand came close enough for him to duck his head and suck her fingers into his mouth, wetting them.

  Her eyes were heated, wide, as he did it. Without any further hesitation she brought her two fingers to her clit, making slow, small circles.

  His balls jumped as he watched this. Fuck, that was really hot. And now she was groaning, head back, eyes closed, working in motion with what he was doing to her. Jesus, it was really fucking hot.

  He was watching her, it was beautiful, and when she came he was right there with her, his eyes damn near crossing. His grunts and final, guttural bellow was not nearly as lovely as the noises Gertie made but he didn’t really care.

  Buck’s body flopped back onto hers, boneless and sated. Gertie’s hands played with his hair, ran over his back, and she caught her breath before he did.

  “Holy shit,” she panted with a laugh. “I hope it stays this fun.”

  Buck rose up on one arm. “It will. Long as you keep making those noises and your tits and ass stay this perfect.”

  She slapped his arm. “Buck! That’s not cool!”

  He laughed. “Why not?”

  “You should want me no matter what I look like.”

  He tilted his head. “So I can turn into a big, hairy fat fuck and you’d be happy as shit to have my sweaty carcass humping away at you?”

  “How good-looking do you think you are?” she teased, and he dropped his mouth to her nipple, sucking at it, making her squeal.

  “Good enough that all I have to do it crook a finger and you’ll come … running,” he replied, one eyebrow up as she laughed. “But consider it, honestly. If I’m sporting a beer gut and socks with sandals, you sure you’re going to be gagging for a good ride?”

  She shrugged. “Big and fat could you still do it like that?”

  “Not a chance,” he said, easing out of her and rolling to his side. She got out of bed and walked naked to the bathroom. His eyes ate up the sight. He meant what he said. If a woman meant enough for him to promise to spend their lives together he’d try his best not to cheat, but if he didn’t desire her anymore it would be a difficult promise to keep. And why lie about it? He’d keep himself in shape for a chick if she did the same for him. It was a two-way fucking street.

  The shower came on and he pulled the condom off, tied it and tossed it in the trashcan. Then he made his way to the bathroom, suddenly ready for another hit of the woman he was quickly getting addicted to.

  Chapter Thirty-Nine

  Gertie’s eyes were on the interoffice mail envelope on her desk. The overstuffed bubble envelope inside was testing the limits of the manila envelope, that was for sure. It was ripped at the edges in a couple spots, but it held. And as far as she could tell, no one had monkeyed.

  Luckily no one liked her enough to small talk over the fact she mailed something to herself. Now she just had to get rid of the fucking thing.

  She had no idea how that was supposed to happen, but with how much those guys knew about her she wouldn’t be surprised if they showed up at her favorite damn grocery store out of nowhere.

  At least here she could get her work done. It was less disorienting to be at home. Either that or the half-Oxy she took in Vancouver was finally out of her system. She was able to keep busy and focused all day. That was, until she got lost in her memories of that morning. And the night before.

  She was in the middle of one such little daydream when her desk phone rang. She picked it up halfway through the second ring. “Gertie Dénise speaking.”

  “Hey sweetheart.” Her stomach went cold because it wasn’t Buck. It had a lot more of an urban-sounding accent. Which meant it was one of her dealers.

  She didn’t answer, just waited.

  “You got our package?”

  “Yes,” she said. Keeping her words to a minimum was the best way to go with these guys.

  “Good. At five o’clock head to the same spot where you first bought weed from me. There’s a bar called Ebony. We’ll be waiting for it.”

  “Make it just before five?” she asked, sounding terrified and wondering if this wasn’t stupid to ask any favors. “My … boyfriend is picking me up at five.”

  “All right. It’s your workday.” With that he hung up.

  Great. Now she had two hours to stress over that.

  -oOo-

  Gertie had never believed she suffered from any prejudices, but walking into the incredibly dimly-lit Ebony scared the shit out of her. Her first realization was that she was the only white person inside. Her second realization was that she was uncomfortable about that.

  Maybe she was paranoid, but it felt as though conversations stopped around her immediately. And that everyone was staring at her.

  Really, she should j
ust probably go.

  “Hey honey, over here!” a voice shouted, somewhere in the back of the room.

  Her grip tightened on her purse but she headed in the direction of whoever was shouting. As she drew closer she realized it was the two fellows that had caught her before her flight at the airport, sitting on opposite sides of a booth with fabric-covered seats marked with cigarette burns. The table top was chipped and rough as well.

  Gertie stood, almost at attention, to the side of the table, waiting for her next instruction. This was almost like a job interview. She had no idea what was expected of her, and she had the odd feeling she’d forgotten to bring something. Maybe.

  “You got it?” the guy that was the talker asked.

  Gertie nodded.

  “Then put it on the table, bitch,” snapped the one still sporting a few bruises from Buck’s fist. Handsome John, she remembered. A retort was on the tip of her tongue, but self-preservation won out. She fumbled opening her purse, pulled out the envelope and put it on the table.

  Chatty grabbed it, peeling open the top flap and taking a look inside. Satisfied, he nodded to the bruised one who reached into his pocket and set an envelope on the table, right in front of her. Gertie looked down at it, blinked, then looked back at them.

  “Jesus, you’re an idiot. Take it.” Clearly Handsome John didn’t like her much.

  Gertie picked it up and checked out the contents like Chatty had. It was a slim wad of hundred-dollar bills. She nearly dropped it, managed to quickly set it on the table instead, patting it. “No, no,” she stammered. “That’s fine. That’s not why I did this.”

  Chatty got to his feet, and apparently he wasn’t as useless at intimidation as she suspected because he stepped up close, forcing her back a step while he scooped up the envelope. He tucked it into the open flap of her purse, his hands not exactly careful where they slid. He spoke the entire time as well. “You are now part of this enterprise. And if not all parts are getting money from it, it makes the other members very nervous.”

  She shook her head. “No, you said I had to do this to keep my father alive.”

  “Oh, that too. But this,” he went on cheerfully, pinching her nose playfully, “means we have two ways to keep you in the mix. Once you accept the proceeds of crime, we know you won’t go running to the cops. And if you really work out for us, you could build up a very nice nest egg. Maybe even enough to get Daddy out of the country one day.”

  No, that didn’t sound right. “But this was it,” she stammered. “Just this once, right?” He looked over his shoulder to Handsome John. They were sharing a laugh, and Gertie felt herself getting pissed. “Just this once, right?” she repeated.

  “Aw, honey,” he cooed, trying to put his arm around her, a move which she evaded. “No one said just this once. Just like that biker boy you’re with, we’re only going to use you as long as it’s fun and beneficial. Then we’ll part ways.”

  Gertie stared at him as her heart was hammering, blood thinning and anger making her vision run red. “I can’t do that again. This was just luck this time. I can’t do it.”

  “You can and you will, honey. Get creative how you do it if you’re nervous. But that mail courier thing is genius. Anything else could get the stash nipped. And if you lose a stash you’re paying it back.” Now he did grab her arm. “In cash and ass, get me?”

  Now there were a few chuckles, and that’s when Gertie realized the three of them had a little audience. Every one of them men, in a half-circle behind her. Chewing on toothpicks and eyeing her up and down with low laughter that made her stomach turn.

  Shit.

  “Now go back to work, get all ready for your boyfriend.” He leaned in, breathing deep with his eyes closed. “Lucky fucker,” he mumbled, and Gertie jerked back. Chatty released her arm and she spun immediately, heading for the door in third gear which was as fast as these heels went.

  Outside she sucked in lungful after lungful of fresh air, not stopping. She hit the intersection outside her office building just as the light changed, and she fell into normal walking pace with everyone else.

  Great. More guilt, more fucking drug trafficking to do? Shit. Shit. She really fucked this all up.

  Gertie should tell Buck. She had to. He’d know what to do, how to get her out of this shit. Keep her safe. And as long as she warned her father ahead of time it should all be fine. He’d have to take care of himself.

  Back in her office she logged off her computer, shutting everything down first and flicked off the lights on her way out. As she stepped off the elevator in the main lobby she caught sight of Buck and her heart did that happy little double-step like it usually did. She grinned, rushing towards him and letting him gather her up in a hug, one hand on her ass in a totally inappropriate way since her coworkers were walking right by them. But she didn’t care. They hated her anyway.

  “Mmm, missed you,” he grumbled close to her ear, making her shiver.

  “Missed you too,” she returned, close to tears. Jesus, what a relief to be in his arms after the place she’d just been.

  He kissed her cheek and stepped back to take her hand. “Come on,” he said with a gentle pull on her arm. “Wanna spend the night at my house?”

  Gertie smiled, gripping his arm above his elbow. “Yeah, I do.”

  Chapter Forty

  “Gertie, you’ll look fine no matter what,” Buck called down the hallway, shaking his head. “Just put some clothes on. Let’s get the lead out.”

  “I don’t want to be the only square there,” she shouted.

  Buck blew out a breath, approaching the canvas she had set up in front of the living room windows. It was huge, looked tipsy on the easel she had set up for it. He grinned. This was the painting she was doing for him. There was a black and white photo stuck to the wall, the guide for what she was working on. It was a close up of the twin-cams off his own bike. Her version was cool, or so he thought it would be when it was done. When he asked if it was cliché to have a motorcycle picture on the wall she looked at him in horror.

  “Of course not!” she gasped at him, mock insult incredibly cute on her. “I’m not putting a blonde bimbo with huge tits on it. It’s going to be nice. And there’s no point pretending you’re not a biker. You are. So put a bike painting on the wall.”

  He couldn’t wait to see it all done. He’d watched her paint most of the afternoon, actually. It was beautiful. She was lost to what she was doing; he had to tell her what time it was so she could shower and get ready for Jayce’s birthday.

  “Gertie,” he called, pacing back to the hallway.

  “I’m almost ready.”

  With a sigh Buck headed down the hallway to the bedroom. “Gertie, come on. Get the lead out,” he was muttering, walking into a scene of fashionable havoc. A guy might think her closet exploded. And in the middle was Gertie, buttoning up those short-pant things that he could never remember the name of. They were khaki, her blouse was bright blue, sleeveless with buttons up the front. It was open at the moment.

  She looked up at him, tossing her head so her hair was out of her eyes, smiling in that brilliant way she had. “Sorry,” she said, starting on the shirt’s buttons. “I just want your friends to like me.”

  Buck shook his head, leaning on the door jamb. “They’ll like you because you’re hot,” he assured her. “But being late means Trinny won’t like you and that … well, that you do not want.”

  “I don’t?”

  “No, she’ll make your life a living hell. And if she doesn’t like you no one will be allowed to. Not even me.”

  She pulled a funny face. “What? That’s nuts.”

  “You think so, but that’s how it goes.”

  “Okay, okay,” she squealed, exasperated. “This is what I’m wearing. Is Trinny going to like this?” She straightened her back and held her arms out to the side, modeling.

  He reached up and fastened the top button. “Now she will.”

  “Are you serious?”


  “I’m serious,” he replied, sober as a judge. “Plus, I don’t want anyone else catching a glimpse of those.”

  She sighed, following him down the hallway without any other arguments. It was a smooth routine for her to slide onto the bike behind him, wrapping her arms around him as he fired up the motor. She melded to his back; he barely noticed her weight behind him anymore. That thought made him happy, too.

  Jayce and Trinny’s front yard looked like a Harley dealership when they arrived. He parked in the driveway, one of the last slots available. He didn’t think they were late but they were certainly among the last to arrive.

  “Should we have brought something? Gertie whispered as he took her hand. “Shit, we should have brought something.”

  “No, believe me. Trinny likes shit her way. She’s got it all covered. Just be you, honey.”

  Gertie nodded when he shook her hand, checking on her. Then they approached the gate to the backyard.

  “Uncle David!” Liberty McClune’s adorable two-year-old voice cut through the raised voices and music pouring through the patio speakers. Buck was grinning as she came flying at him, top-speed, ramming into his knees clumsily before he could scoop her up and toss her over his shoulder like a rug.

  “Libby,” he replied, turning her so she was head-towards Gertie. “This is my friend Gertie. Gertie, this is Liberty, Jayce’s daughter.”

  Gertie’s voice sounded a bit surprised. He couldn’t see her. “Oh, well, it’s nice to meet you, Liberty. I like your ribbon.”

  “Thank you. Gertie’s a funny name.”

  Gertie gave a laugh. “Yeah, I guess it is. It was my Grandma’s name.”

  “I like your shirt. It’s a pretty color.”

  “Thank you very much.”

  “Where’s your dad, Libby?”