by K. S. Adkins
Now that she’s down, it’s a great time to grab a fist full of hair. Not to pull, okay? Geez, what am I, in high school? No, I want to see the look on her face when she knows she’s about to get fucking skull bashed by the likes of me.
Just as I’m about to introduce her to the floor a few things happened. Of course, I’m in a bit of a snit right now, so it’s difficult for me to assimilate what’s happening. I hear an ear splitting ‘No!’ from who I believe to be Macy, but I can’t see her. I hear the whore crying, I hear Rogan yell ‘Stop!’ Surely, that wasn’t meant for me? Naw, it can’t be.
The third thing that happened was someone took me to the floor. Hard. Here’s the thing about kill mode: I don’t care who the fuck I’m killing at this point, as long as it’s someone. The hobag forgotten, I turn my attention to my newest recruit. It’s a man, and he’s strong, but he’s also never fought anyone like me before. I focus my attention and my weight on his mid-section. I’ll appreciate the six pack later, but right now I need to work my way up to his throat so I can choke the life from him. I attack his unprotected middle, noticing he’s quick to lose steam. In the back of my mind, I’m grateful that Rogan is letting me do this without the whole partner thing interfering. I’ll thank him properly later, maybe with my mouth.
I don’t know how long it lasts, I just know the man below is struggling for breath and not fighting back. Which sucks, because it’s no fun when they don’t fight back. But now I know two things for certain: 1) I hear Rogan calling me back, so it’s time for me to snap out of it and 2) I’m smiling. This felt good. I needed it.
Rogan comes to me, looks me in the eyes, lets me know I need to let go. Let go? Of what? He must sense my confusion, and I follow his eyes to look down, and I see that I’ve beat the ever loving shit out of Rafe.
Rafe? Where the fuck did he come from?
Rogan stands me up, asking me if I’m okay. I say yes, but before I can say any more, I realize we have a huge crowd that’s cheering. Max and the bouncers are there, Macy’s pissed with Ben holding her back, and Rafe is not my biggest fan.
“The fuck happened, Kharma?” Max yells.
“She beat the shit out of a cop,” yells Rafe, standing up. “That’s what happened!”
“A cop?” Max asks. “Really?”
“I didn’t know she was a cop,” I defend. “But now I do, still doesn’t matter.”
“Good. I fucking hate cops,” growls Max. “Get her outta here.”
The bouncers pick her up to walk her crying ass out. I don’t bother looking at her because, yeah, I don’t care.
When Rafe realizes he isn’t going to get retribution from Max, he turns to Rogan.
“You need to keep your woman on a leash.”
“I told you to stop didn’t I?” says Rogan.
“Did you see what she did to her?!” he yells. “You didn’t even try to fucking stop her! You’re as fucking crazy as she is!”
Rafe stands there, fuming, when Macy approaches. I don’t like seeing her upset.
“Are you okay, Venessa?” she asks, wondering if it’s okay to hug me.
“Sorry you had to see that,” I apologize. “Sorry if I ruined your night.”
“It’s fine,” she assures me. “You did good, yeah?”
“She did good?” yells Rafe. “Are you fucking kidding me!”
“I told you not to touch her!” yells Macy. “If you’d fucking listen to someone other than yourself, you wouldn’t be bleeding right now! Looking at Rafe, then back to me, he holds nothing back.
“You know what?” he spits. “Someone needs to fucking medicate her, or better yet, put her down.”
At this point all hell breaks loose. But for me it’s in slow motion. I take Macy by the hand, putting her behind me as I approach Rafe. Max is holding Rogan back as he tries to attack Rafe. Security is scrambling, but now I just want to go home. Maybe Rafe is right, but it’s really not his call. Approaching him, with Macy secure, I see he’s pretty mixed up right now and so is Rogan.
“Medication can’t fix what’s wrong with me,” I say softly, for his ears only. “I died once, didn’t you know? I died when I was seventeen years old, then he brought me back to life.” When I spare a glance to Rogan, my heart, I see that he has questions, questions I can’t answer right now.
Instead of dissecting them, I approach him with Macy in tow. Macy, being Macy, wasn’t done yet. She turns from me and holds up her ‘just a sec’ pose, I nod. She struts up to Rafe, who starts yelling at her while she casually pulls out her tazer and zaps him right in the chest. The second he goes down, she turns and walks away. The crowd is cheering, and then Ben tells me he’s taking her home. I tell her to text me when she gets there. Knowing Macy is secure and that Rafe will survive the taze, I head back over to Rogan.
“Friend of yours?” I say, repeating his words.
“No,” he says. “She’s a cop, that’s all I know.”
“Then I guess we’re even,” I say smiling at him. On the inside, I know he’s smiling too.
Venessa 1
Hobag 0
I need to be with her, but I need to set Rafe straight first. Seeing her tonight did something to me. She is like the Angel of Death. A fucking hot Angel of Death. Mine. She did that for me, for us. That may not do it for you, but the wood I’m sporting is proof that it totally fucking works for me. Rafe doesn’t get us, but fuck him, he doesn’t need to. We get us. Fuck him and everyone else. Watching my girl clean house like that was wild. All I could do was stand there and watch, with a boner. It was fucking awesome.
“What?” says Rafe. “You gonna finish what your girl started?”
“My girl,” I say. “Didn’t start shit. You did. You knew she didn’t like to be touched, so the beat down? Your fault. Your job was Macy, not Venessa. Insult her again, trust me, I will finish it.”
“You let her beat a cop down, partner,” he says. “That’s how it is now? Fuck the rules?”
“I don’t expect you to get it,” I say. “One day, when you find yours, it’ll be that way for you, too.”
“Fuck that, don’t need the hassle. Pussy is making you crazy, man,” he says. “See, that prick Macy brought with her tonight? Fucking pre-med fuck.”
“I’m gonna ignore that comment. He’s a friend from school, so who fucking cares?” I say, annoyed. “You also have a ‘hands off’ order, so just do your damn job.”
“That female fires me up,” he says. “Fucking pre-med. Figures.”
“The last cop she was with almost killed her, remember?” I remind him. “Venessa says he’s a friend, and she would know. Did Macy seem into the guy?”
“No,” he says. “But that’s not the point.”
“What is the point?”
“Fuck off, I’m just pissed she got the drop on me. I haven’t been tazed in years. That shit hurts,” he says. “I gotta go tail her.” Walking away, I feel his pain. He doesn’t want to admit it, but Macy is under his skin.
I find Venessa waiting for Macy and Ben to get in his car and take off. She hugs Macy, which makes me happy. She doesn’t hug Ben, only nods, and that makes me really happy. She looks exhausted. As much as I’d like to pick her up and carry her home, I’d rather not get nailed for trying.
“Hey, you.”
“Hey,” I say, coming up to her and wrapping her up in my arms. She sighs, which tells me she needs this. She needs me.
“Take me home?”
The drive back to the loft is a quiet one. She’s beat, while I’m replaying the scene over and over in my head, wondering if I should have done something. Nope. I think things went well, considering. I never thought I’d have a woman, let alone have one who would stake her claim the way that she did. Still hard, dammit.
We make our way up, and it’s loud as usual. I will say this, it may be loud, but they don’t seem to have drama which is a bonus. Her neighbor, Roughdraft, spots her, starts to approach, sees me, then bolts. Smart guy.
We get in and she im
mediately gets naked, and I feel myself relax. It’s not easy sharing her with the public, even if they admire her from a distance.
“Come here.” She does so without second guessing it.
“Can I ask you something?” she asks, getting comfortable in my lap.
“Anything,” I say, rubbing her back.
“Did I embarrass you?” she asks. “If I did, I can’t say I’m sorry, because I’d be lying.”
Taking her left hand to my bulge, because the right is entwined in my beard, I ask her, “Does this feel like embarrassment to you?”
“No,” she says. “It doesn’t. But I saw her touch you and---“
“Shh,” I say. “I know I still have more heads to bash in your honor, so it’s all good.”
“Mmm,” she moans. “Take me to bed. Now.”
I can’t think of anything I’d rather do more, though I’ll admit it’s difficult to lift her up when she’s rubbing my cock like a magic lamp.
I lay her down, then I find myself unsure about the next step. We’ve done this before but I still struggle with the warm up. Don’t get me wrong, I love that shit, it’s just that I want to do it all at once, and it pisses me off that I can’t. She yawns, reminding me that she needs rest so I need to make it quick.
“Spread your legs,” I order.
“No.”
“No?” I ask.
“You’re hard, I’m wet,” she says. “I know what you’re doing. Don’t make me wait.”
“I want to make you scream first,” I say.
“Oh, I’m going to scream,” she says. “But it’s going to be while you fuck me.”
“Shut up and listen. I may overwhelm you, I may get rough with you because I don’t know no better. But I will never fuck you. When we’re like this,” I say slowly filling her up. I look at the face of the only person who has ever needed me and I need her to understand why we’re different. “This is me and you, this is us. We don’t fuck, we fit. We just have a good fucking time doing it.”
“I like that.”
“Then you’ll love this,” I say, rolling my hips, getting the hang of this. She starts to close her eyes, and I remind her that, when we’re together, they stay open. Always. “Look at me.”
“Beautiful,” she says, raising her hips.
“Only to you,” I say, picking up my pace.
“Always to me,” she says. “I wish you could see what I see.”
“Grab your tits for me,” I demand, changing the subject.
“Like this?” Filling her tiny hands has the heat crawling over my skin.
“Yeah,” I say, struggling with words. “Like that.”
“Get behind me?”
“Behind you?” I ask, confused. “Oh. Behind you… you sure?” But she doesn’t answer. Instead, she motions me to move, so she can get in position. Fuck! I have never seen anything like this in my life. On screen, yeah. In person? Fuck, it’s off the charts. She looks over her shoulder at me, and it takes all I’ve got (which isn’t much) not to maul her.
“I’m sure.”
“Fuck, Angel,” I say. “You’re killing me right now. You’re fucking beautiful like this.”
I get in place behind her, but I can’t stop staring. If she’s embarrassed, she isn’t saying so. My god, seeing my woman like this for me has me coming undone. Her back is arched, her legs are spread, and I just stare. I’ve seen her naked, in the shower, sleeping and getting dressed but I never expected to see her on all fours with her ass in the air asking me to come in from behind. I can’t move, I just want to stare a little longer and maybe figure out the best way to do this without hurting her. I also want to commit every inch of her to memory and then I want to bite her to mark her to remind her she’s mine. Mentally, I shake my head to rid myself of thoughts of biting her but, fuck it’s hard because that’s what my instinct tells me to do. She must notice the change in me because she looks back at me again, but not to rush me. She’s watching me, too.
“You make me feel beautiful,” she says. “Only you can do that.”
Needing her bad, I decide to follow my gut knowing that if I cross a line she’ll check me. I place my left hand on her hip, and use my right to guide my cock toward her. Working with my right I run it up then down using her juice to get it wet. Her pussy is so wet I’m able to ease myself in, and instantly her moans and constant shifting and wiggling are driving me nuts for her.
“Fuck, Rogan,” she begs. “I need you now. Deep. Shove it in, please.”
“Angel,” I groan, watching myself disappear inside of her. “Please, tell me you didn’t get this idea from a porno.”
“Oh, god,” she says. “No, just…wanted—I thought-”
“Shh,” I say, pushing deeper. “I’ll take care of you.”
Once fully seated, I grab both hips, and this angle feels, I don’t know, like more to me. I fucking love it, and she does, too.
She’s mumbling, thrashing and begging to come. I’m not trying to stop her; I just can’t stop what I’m doing either. You can’t choreograph this shit.
She smashes her face into a pillow, and I pound. She raises her head up and arches her back, and I pound her again. This goes on for several minutes, but something’s missing. We’re both sweating, grunting, unable to find our end. I realize what it is when she turns to look at me, pulling her closer to me by her hair gently so I don’t hurt her, but needing to see her better and when our eyes meet, we both of find our releases immediately, violently. That’s what was missing, as long as we can see each other, neither one of us will be lost ever again.
I wake up to find myself on top of Rogan. He doesn’t seem to mind, but the man needs to breathe. Personally, I’m having trouble. I can’t get tonight out of my head. Maybe you can help me? I don’t feel remorse for what I did. Why should I? But I also can’t help but think that Rafe was at least partially right. It’s not like I’m unaware that I have issues. Rogan doesn’t have a problem with them, so I should be satisfied with that. I am, mostly. My fear comes from so many different places but mostly I fear losing him. I’ve become dependent. Only hours ago, I fought to be able to orgasm, and it took looking at him for it to happen. Bam! Bliss city. That’s some scary shit right there.
Is Rogan so caught up in me, in us, that he doesn’t see how damaging I can be? Am I so caught up in him that I don’t care that I could be damaging him? He’s so much better than I am. He deserves more. But I’m too selfish to let him go. I head to the guest room to play some music. I never know what I’m going to play until I pick up my guitar. I start to strum it while looking out the window and I realize I’m singing.
The words burn in my throat, needing to be released. I’m not a religious person anymore. Hard to believe in anything, when the very thing you were raised to believe wasn’t around when you needed it. That higher power wasn’t there, then or since then. I found Rogan, and that’s when I started to believe again. Not in a higher power, but in the ability to love and heal. Each verse makes me feel lighter, free. What I’m signing is the absolute truth. I’m not sure what to think about it, but I want him to stay, need him to stay. I can’t live without him. I don’t want to live without him. That’s my reality.
“Who wrote that?” he asks, breaking the silence.
“Rhianna,” I say, setting the guitar down and turning to him.
“You goin’ somewhere?” He asks me this, and I don’t need to consider my answer.
“I’m not going anywhere,” I say. “Not without you.”
“What’s on your mind, Angel?” he asks, finding a place next to me.
“You know, the usual,” I say with a shrug. “I’m afraid the world will get in our way, and it makes me want to—“
“I know,” he says. “We’ll fight the fucking world together.”
“This Tony thing,” I say. “I need you to know that it’s you and me, and there’s no room for him here.” Taking his hand, I place it on my heart.
“Knowing another man wants my
woman ain’t easy,” he says. “But you don’t want him back, so we’ll deal with it.”
“Will you catch shit from that chick at work?”
“I doubt it.” He grins at me. “Until she approached me, I didn’t even know she existed.”
“If she comes back,” I say, “I’ll fuck her up again.”
“I know you will,” he says, grinning. “Do you want me to watch, or step in?”
I laugh. Best boyfriend ever!
“Only step in if she gets the best of me.”
“Then I guess I’m watching,” he says, smiling.
“You’re mine forever, right?”
“Unless you change your mind,” he says, and I almost panic until I really look at him.
“I won’t,” I say. “I’m stubborn. I hate change, but I love your beard.”
“Yeah, well, I love you,” he says, hugging me. “All of you.”
“Even the crazy parts?”
“Especially the crazy parts,” he says, kissing my forehead.
“You love me. Are you sure?”
“Seeing as I’ve never felt like this, can’t stand the fucking thought of not breathing your air, yeah I’m fucking sure.”
“You’re my pumpkin.”
“Care to explain that?”
“You’re my pumpkin,” I explain. “And my tree, too.”
“I tell you I love you, you tell me I’m your pumpkin?”
“And my tree.”
“Angel, do you love me?”
“More than anything. I’ve waited forever for my pumpkin and my tree. I really fucking love you.”
“I really fucking love you, too, Angel.”
And with that, he picks me up and carries me back to bed, and I explain to him the story of the pumpkin and the tree. For the first time in a long time, I sleep without nightmares. I slept with roots for the first time in ten years.