“I don’t want to hurt you—”
“Then lube me up with that spunk.” Digger laughed and Joey smeared his arse crack with the seed he had just spilled and then grabbed his hips in firm hands. Gently, ever so gently, he thrust the tip of his cock in Digger’s puckered hole. They both sighed. Joey took his time, thrusting deeper and deeper, even though Digger could feel tension in his body. He tried not to picture him pounding DD’s arse in the same way, but it made him hot anyway. His own much-abused cock was already twitching with desire. The sweat of their bodies mingled as they moved as one.
“Oh god, you feel so good,” Joey said, his voice quiet, but urgent. “I don’t know how much longer I can hold out.”
“Come as you will. I’m ready.” Digger grinned, excited as Joey began to pound hard against his arse until finally shuddering against him with a low groan of satisfaction. They lay panting together, impaled as one.
When Joey finally slipped down beside him on the narrow bunk, they returned to kissing. Digger thought his heart might burst with happiness. Who knew he would find ecstasy as the world ended? He found he didn’t care if it was the end.
“It’s so different with someone…you don’t despise,” Joey mumbled. Digger laughed and Joey kissed him again. “I mean…with…someone you…love.”
Digger smiled in the dark. “Yes, it is. I never knew how good it could be.” They kissed on and on. Digger didn’t want to be the one who fell asleep first, but all of the sudden he was blinking awake and the morning light was streaming in through the high cell window. Joey looked so much younger in his sleep, but as soon as Digger shifted on the bed he was awake too, pulling him into a kiss.
“That’s a great way to wake up,” Joey said with a laugh. “And a perfect start to a historical day. Right. We need to pack up. I know you need that journal of yours.” He winked, and Digger felt a surge of emotion that nearly brought tears to his eyes. To cover up his embarrassment, he punched Joey in the chest and in a moment they were wrestling, then batting each other with their morning wood.
“We should be getting ready,” Digger said, his hand on Joey’s cock.
Joey thought the matter over. “All right, let’s see who can make the other come first.” It was a race to the finish neither wanted to win but Digger’s technique proved superior and had Joey gasping with pleasure in no time. “I demand a rematch tomorrow.”
Digger almost whistled as he walked back to his cell. It took him two minutes to pack up what he was taking with him. Joey roused the others and exhorted them to pack up, while Digger did make a hasty entry in his journal.
They all headed to the cafeteria, where Joey was crossing out yesterday’s notice and writing TODAY in large letters. “We’ll have to wait until Johnny’s here to sort out the kitchen stuff, as Simon’s refusing to give way.”
“And only too right he should,” Johnny said as he entered the room, his men arranged in a phalanx behind him. “Winner take all, isn’t that what we said?”
“No, we never said nothing of the kind. What have you lot been up to while we’ve been working hard?” Joey looked angry. Johnny always had a way of nettling him. Digger shifted from one foot to the other, then back again, because his foot still throbbed. Something was wrong. The weight of the gun in the back of his waistband made him even more uncomfortable.
“Never you mind,” Johnny said with a sneer. “What have you managed with your raggle-taggle gypsy band?”
ArachNed, who everyone knew was Roma, bristled at the remark. “Shut your face, you racist bastard.”
“Oh, sorry. I’m not being politically correct. I meant dirty, thieving gypsy band.” Johnny laughed. ArachNed stepped forward, but before he could say anything more to Johnny, Sid jumped in and punched Ned in the stomach. A surprised Ned fell back. Johnny’s guys spread out, shadowing all of Joey’s crew. “I ask again, what have you got? Because it’s going to be ours.”
Joey’s eyes looked like thunder would shoot from them. “What the fuck is your problem?”
“Limited resources.” Johnny flashed some teeth, looking more like a snarl than a grin. “You got me thinking on that and I realized that we’re not all going to survive until help arrives or we get out. So, it’s going to be easier if we eliminate some of the competition.”
“And you think we’re just going to lay down and allow that?”
“Oh, hell yeah.” Johnny launched himself at Joey and it seemed to be a sign for general mayhem. Johnny’s crew leapt upon their opponents like wild animals, and punching, kicking and yelling commenced. Digger was lucky to have a chair between him and his apparently assigned enemy, who stumbled as he tried to thrust it out of the way. Digger remembered his name was Tony. He had been one of the guys sharing guard duty on the storeroom this week. Lacking any other weapon at hand, Digger slipped off his rucksack and slammed it against Tony’s head, hoping the books provided enough heft to slow him down. Tony dropped like a cartoon character at his feet.
Digger hustled over to where Joey and Johnny grappled, feeling his heart in his throat. They were moving too fast to part them, so he finally grabbed the gun from his back. For a moment he held it uncertain, then aiming toward the ceiling, he pulled the trigger.
The sound echoed around the cafeteria and everyone stopped, frozen for a moment. Then Johnny untangled himself and launched his body toward Digger. Joey was right behind him and the three went down together. The whole world seemed to hold its breath as they struggled. They all hoped to get the gun and they all thought they’d be the best one to have it. Hands scrabbled and legs entwined. The crazy mirroring of this morning’s pleasurable wrestling with Joey struck Digger as almost funny, but he knew if he laughed it would have sounded crazy and it was. To be so close to escape and then be fighting like this when they could all be free together.
He remembered a story his father had told him—that he later learned was the lyrics of an old song—how people were rumored to have a treasure and all their neighbors joined up to fight them and steal this treasure, fighting them down to the last person only to discover the great gift had been peace. It was ironic just like this. The competition to discover a way out had pushed them to make a real escape, but now they would lose it because they were killing each other and it finally made the end of the world seem real. It made Digger cry, because he knew what a waste it all was and how people were their own worst enemies who did this over and over again—though maybe for the last time now.
And as they all knew it would, the gun went off.
It got Johnny in the shoulder and he screamed with the pain, but Joey grabbed the gun, sat up and growled, “Now everyone, back the fuck up.” All the boys stopped and the quiet was filled only with the sound of harsh breathing.
“Simon, you tend to Johnny. He’s going to live. Glen, can you get him some bandages from the cabinet?”
They bandaged up Johnny while he stared stonily into nothing. Then Joey jingled the key ring before him. His eyes dully registered it, then he looked at his would-be brother with such venom that it nearly burned.
“We could be sharing this moment. Laughing together,” Joey said, “But I can’t trust you. So here’s what we’re going to do. We’re going to leave you half the food while we head out. When we find some people or something, we’ll send for people to let you out.”
Digger felt a stab of horror at the thought of leaving them here to starve eventually, but then he thought of Johnny strangling him in his bed. The anger in his eyes suggested he had not changed his mind about that. It made him shudder. He realized how much he had been playing, expecting someone to come along and fix everything. There was no one to come. There were no more adults, at least not around here.
They had to grow up.
It took some time to gather up all the food they were taking. They kept Johnny and his guys locked in the cafeteria until they were ready to go. Joey unlocked the door then ran to join the others in the corridor, closing the gate behind him as he yelled, “We’ll s
end someone for you. Keep that wound clean.”
Digger noticed that he just mimed locking the gate. Joey winked at him. “They probably won’t figure it out for days,” he whispered. The boys all trooped down the corridor, finding the keys necessary at each locked threshold, until they finally stepped into the old lobby, their heels echoing in the big open chamber.
The front door of the lockup was wide open.
“They must have left in a hurry,” ArachNed said.
There were some cars outside, none with keys, and mostly with little in their tanks. Then Glen shouted from the fire engine that had been parked crosswise near the tall wall, too late to put out the fire perhaps. The tank was nearly full. After a little fiddling under the hood to clear the battery, the engine started right up and the boys whooped with pleasure. In no time, they had all the food and other goods tied to the ladder or stowed in the various cabinets where there was room, then the boys all crammed themselves into the seats inside.
The cab was a lot bigger than Digger had thought, but he supposed they needed a big crew to run all the equipment. It brought home to him just how few they were, although it was a tight fit to get everyone in.
Joey looked around at them all. “Are we ready, lads?” They all shouted eagerly and started singing a football chant at the top of their lungs. Glen shifted the engine into gear and the big truck rolled toward the gates. Like the front door of the lockup, they had been left open as the last adult fled, paying no heed to the boys imprisoned inside.
“What do you think we’ll find out there,” Digger asked Joey, squeezed tightly beside him. The touch made his skin glow with happiness and the daylight made Joey’s golden face gleam.
“I don’t know,” Joey said, leaning his head down to Digger’s for a swift kiss. “But we won’t be alone. We’ll never be alone.”
Glen shifted gears and they pulled out of the prison yard onto the open dusty road and the boys all yelled like wild animals set free from their cages.
THE END
About the Author
C. Margery Kempe
C. Margery Kempe is a writer of erotic romance distinguished by its humour, intelligence and fearless sensual pleasures. Her stories range from contemporary thrillers to medieval era fairy tales. An English professor by day, she also writes on medieval literature and film, as well as writing mainstream and genre fiction under her real name and non-explicit romance as Kit Marlowe.
Find out the latest from C. Margery Kempe:
http://www.cmkempe.com
https://www.facebook.com/cmkempe
http://twitter.com/cmkempe
http://ladysmut.com
http://tirgearrpublishing.com/authors/Kempe_CM/index.htm
Not even the immortal are immune to the voodoo of love.
Love Voodoo
by
Alyssa Breck
Dedication
This one goes out to John Taylor of Duran Duran.
Thanks for the music and the inspiration.
Acknowledgements
Big thanks to Carrie Clevenger, Saranna DeWylde and Louisa Bacio for their friendship, encouragement and invaluable critiques. I couldn’t have done this without you.
A Note from the Author
I’ve been a Duran Duran fan for many years. I enjoy music that tells a story with both the melody and the words. I chose the song “Love Voodoo” because the lyrics are sensuous with a sinister quality and inspired me to weave this dark paranormal romance tale.
~ Alyssa Breck
Chapter One
COLLETTE SCRATCHED OUT a meager living, but didn’t go hungry, and she had a roof over her head. There were plenty of people less fortunate than her and she need only look out the plate glass window of the voodoo shop where she worked to see the evidence. People littered the New Orleans streets, a healthy mix of tourists, hopeful musicians and the impoverished.
The Tarot cards and accoutrements were a gift from Alice, the nice lady who owned the store. Collette was learning a little about how to read the cards and concoct potions and spells to someday earn a living with it.
She lit a candle. The Tarot deck was light in her hands. Alice told her to hold the cards often and develop a kinship with them, since she was still learning, Collette only used the major arcana. She shuffled the cards by sliding them over and under each other.
Lavender scented plumes of white smoke billowed out of the miniature cast iron cauldron. She favored burning powdered incense with a coal tablet over the more popular sticks and cones. It was more pungent, more powerful and more authentic.
The first card she flipped over was The Lovers and it landed upside down. Fuck. Collette closed her eyes and laid down the second card. Death, right side up. Two cards that countered each other or maybe because the inverted Lovers came first, the Death card was a good sign that something was about to change in her love life. After the last asshole she dated, she wasn’t so sure she wanted a romantic relationship at all. Maybe a new friend would be better or just some good sex. Yes, she’d settle for getting laid.
The shop was empty and Collette pulled in a deep breath to say a prayer, the same prayer she said every night. “I call upon the Goddess to hear me and bestow her blessings upon me. Thank you for my good fortune.” Fortune was subjective. To some, Collette might appear to be disadvantaged, but she didn’t feel that way. She was happier now than she’d been in a long time.
Sometimes she felt silly saying the prayers, but it was no different than the one she said as a child. Now she prayed to a less judgmental god. Collette blew out the candle and smiled. Alice had told her that magick depended largely on the practitioner. If Collette believed in the divination tools, they would work in her favor. Some days her confidence was for shit. This was one of those days.
The bells hanging from the door rang and she looked up. A tall guy wearing a green T-shirt and Levi’s nodded in her direction before walking down one of the aisles in the store. His dark hair brushed his shoulders and shined under the light. Beautiful.
“Let me know if you need any help, sir.” She wouldn’t mind helping him with anything. There was always an eclectic mix of people coming in and out of the store. Some were just curious, while others came in to buy supplies for spells or to get a card reading. This guy piqued her interest. She had a definite weakness for the tall, dark and mysterious. He didn’t seem too mysterious, but he had the tall and dark part going for him.
He stopped in the middle of the aisle where they kept herbs and oils. He bent down and disappeared behind the aisle rack.
Collette stood up on her tiptoes to catch another glimpse just as he stood up and caught her. Heat crept up her neck and settled in her cheeks as she slowly lowered her heels back to the floor. “Finding everything okay?”
“Do you have any Devil’s Cherries?” His voice was a deep, rich baritone and it resonated in the pit of her stomach like a bassline.
“Umm, yeah. We keep them up here behind the counter.” She pivoted and bent over to grab a few packages. When she turned back he was standing at the counter and she jumped. “Jesus, man. You scared me.”
“I’m sorry.” Close up, his eyes were the strangest shade of blue, almost like he was wearing contact lenses.
“How many packs do you want?”
“Uh, just one for now.”
“What do you use the berries for? People usually buy the leaves and root.”
“They’re not for me. My grandmother uses them for something.”
“Oh. Your grandmother dabbles in the dark arts?” Collette smiled. “Belladonna is pretty specific.”
“No idea what she does with them, honestly.” He grinned. “What time do you close?”
Between his smile and the light scent of his woodsy cologne, Collette felt off balance and had to really think about what he’d just asked. It wasn’t a hard question, but her brain was slow to process it.
Collette gripped the edge of the counter and looked at the old wood clock on the wall beside the
stairs. Light caught on the brass pendulum that swung faithfully inside the cabinet glass. “In fifteen minutes. I close in fifteen minutes.”
He stared at the cards spread out on the counter. “You do readings?”
She straightened one of the cards on the glass. “I’m still learning. I don’t think I’m qualified to do readings yet. But Alice will be here tomorrow morning if you want to come back. She’s really good.”
“I’m not much of a morning person.”
Collette tilted her head. “Is anyone?”
“Some people are.” He handed her a ten-dollar bill and winked. “But I’m not one of them. I’m allergic to daylight.”
She gave him the change for the purchase. “Do you want a bag for these?”
“No, thanks.” He picked up the package of berries and stuffed it into his pocket. “What’s your name?”
“Collette.”
“I’m Luca.”
The name fit him. With a straight nose and strong jawline, he had the look of nobility like an old Greek statue.
“It’s nice to meet you.” She held her hand out.
He shook it firmly and let go quickly. “I guess I’ll see you around,” he said and started to walk away.
“If you want to hang out, maybe I can give you an amateur reading after I close up.” There was no explanation why she didn’t want him to leave. Her common sense told her she shouldn’t invite a stranger to stay inside after she closed, but his ass looked good in those jeans and his smile was a little too easy.
Come Undone: Romance Stories Inspired by the Music of Duran Duran Page 35