by Tara Oakes
Eventually, the guy will realize what he’s missing out on, go get the right girl, and call it a day. But, they’re gonna make it drag out for over two hours and fill it with plenty of close-ups, sad music and the good girl finally realizing how great she is.
Thanks to Baby, I’ve sat through movies like this one more times than I can remember, so I don’t need to really pay attention. Instead, I’ll use the time to do something a little more productive.
I reach down and pick up Baby’s tiny ankle, placing it on my lap while watching her face for any hint of reaction. Her one eyebrow raises, but she keeps her attention on the film.
She won’t be able to keep that up long, though, not after what I’ve got in store for her.
“Very pretty,” I compliment the bright pink toe nails that shine and glimmer in the low overhead light from the recessed bulbs in the ceiling.
Baby’s as ticklish as they come and she points her toes while tensing her feet, thinking I’m about to start teasing. Instead, I use my thumbs to press into the pressure points above the balls of her heel.
Her eyelashes flutter and the colored circles roll back as I begin to massage every little inch of her small foot. A low moan escapes her lips and her body settles down, sinking into the deep cushions of the sofa, sliding down until she’s lying flat on her back so that I have a better hold of her lower legs.
Rubbing in small circles, seeking out the tension and working on releasing the tight areas, I’ve got her purring like a damn kitten within moments.
Time to step it up a notch.
Her feet smell of lavender and are soft, silky, and smooth. With a good grip on the center of her arch, I raise her leg and get an eyeful as the seam of her shorts reveals that she doesn’t have anything on underneath.
My chest feels tight as I see the soft pink lips that are hiding under the cotton pajama bottoms. They practically pucker up and blow a kiss at me.
I shift in my seat and move to concentrate on the foot in my hands instead. Otherwise, I may get ahead of myself. Rather than kissing the pussy that captured my attention so well a second ago, I kiss the inner arch of her foot and feel her heartbeat pulsing under my tongue.
The next kiss is more firm, on the top of her foot, followed by one on her smooth painted nail. Her chest rises and falls faster and faster, especially when my tongue runs along the inner edge of her instep, landing on the toes I take in my mouth and suck hard, mimicking the way I want to suck on her clit right now.
As I feast on her toes, the free foot lying in my lap begins to stir, exploring the patch of denim that’s covering my hard cock. As I massage her foot, both with my thumbs and my tongue, she goes to work on rubbing and squirming her eager foot against my dick, teasing it and bringing it to life.
I quickly undo my jeans and free the firmness that she’s exciting so that we’re dealing with skin on skin, feeling the hot smoothness of her foot on my throbbing self.
Faster and faster, she works me as I grind my hips against her.
I can see the thin strip of fabric between her thighs begin to darken as it moistens, soaking up the dripping juices from between those pretty pink lips that I want to lick clean.
Enough foreplay.
Her foot tastes fucking great but I want something sweet right now.
Growling, I let her foot fall and lean forward, taking the shorts in hand and yanking down to expose the center fold I’m homed in on.
Her eyes are dreamy, watching me with heavy lids as I position myself between her luscious thighs, pushing her knees far apart until they fall open for me to fit perfectly.
I can smell her arousal, and it’s strong. That’s good. That’s real fucking good.
There’s no time wasted, sliding my tongue up and through the folds, caressing her slick velvety sensitiveness. Lapping up the sugary sweet syrup is half the fun as well as exploring and mapping out the tender terrain.
The hollow valley. The tight peak. Everything in between. I want it all and I take it all, eating her delicious pussy like a fucking pro.
Her hips begin to swirl themselves as her body acts on its own, showing me how bad she wants this.
“Mmm,” I moan and groan into her, perfectly content to stay here forever if I can.
The movie playing in the background fades and the screen goes black as the moments pass.
“No more,” she pleads, but I don’t release the latch my mouth has on her.
She hasn’t come for me yet and I’m not giving up until she does.
“I need it, Stitch. All of it. Can’t wait anymore.” She’s finally given me the green light to take this all the way.
Thank God! I was fully prepared to make this all about her, but I’m damn thankful that I’m gonna get something now, too. But, not before she gets hers.
My tongue doubles down, pushing right into the hard pebble-like place that is her downfall until she… falls. All over my mouth.
“Ah!” She calls out in a gasping yelp while exploding.
Her pussy is barely done weeping as I push my jeans down past my hips and slide up and over her body, aligning the parts together that are about to make fuckin’ magic.
It’s been months since I’ve felt what I’m about to feel, although I’ve dreamed of it every night since. No matter what, I always knew my dreams could never do it justice. Like our first time ever, I pause just as the tip of my cock touches her hot opening.
“You sure?” I ask her now just as I did then.
And, just like back then, I know the answer before she gives it.
“Do it. Babe, please.”
I take care to enter her slowly although it takes every fiber of my being to hold myself back from slamming into her the way I want to. This has to be gentle, has to be slow and easy. Her body is healing still.
There are more ways to fuck your woman than you can possibly count.
Rough.
Smooth.
Sweet.
Frantic.
This time is different than anything we’ve ever done before, with an explosion of feeling s and unsaid words flowing from her to me and back again. When you have two halves of a whole finally reconnecting after being torn apart, it’s something surreal.
This is surreal.
It’s fucking intense.
So intense that I feel a tear drop fall from her eye as I’m kissing her face. “I’m so sorry, Stitch. Everything I said, I didn’t mean it. You know that, right?”
I shush and silence her with a deep kiss.
“Baby, you did mean it and that’s okay. We’re gonna get through this. I promise. It’s gonna start with us both being honest about it though, okay? Only then can we get past it.” Who the fuck knew I was so enlightened?
Must be the sex.
It’s making me think all rational and shit.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
ANGEL
Bed rest.
Who would have ever thought two words can fuck up your world so much?
I’ll tell you who never thought it. Me. That’s who.
I mean… I’m young. I’m healthy. I’m vibrant.
More than that, though. I’m stubborn. If I tell myself that I can kick this, then I know I will. Too bad the doctor doesn’t agree will me.
Dawson took the news almost as hard as I did. For a second. Then, he picked himself up, along with me, and started figuring out how the hell we’re gonna make this work.
I mean, I’ve got like seven more months to go, even though the doctor said there’s a chance she’ll lift the restriction once my blood pressure stabilizes.
How the hell is everything gonna get done around here in the meantime?
How the hell am I not going to go insane and drive myself mad worrying about all the little things that need to get done every day?
Waking Sasha up for school.
Making her breakfast and taking her to preschool.
Handling the books down at the club.
Training the new girl behind the bar.
Going with Mom to her doctor’s appointments.
Laundry.
Cooking.
Cleaning.
I exhale deep and long, knowing that thinking like this is only adding to the stress and I can feel my blood pressure climb.
“Here ya go, babe.” Dawson carries my laptop into the bedroom, with the charger dangling from his fingers. “This should keep you busy for a while so I can take Sasha to school.”
My eyes roll. “Wow. Something to do for twenty minutes. I only have a million more to fill after that.”
Dawson lays the computer down next to me. “Well, we could fill tons of those minutes with sex. Blow jobs. Hand jobs. Think of all the stuff we can do.”
He’s trying to be funny. Well, serious and funny, but it’s not working.
“This isn’t gonna work Dawson. You can’t do everything on your own. We need help. I think we need to hire someone.” I can’t think of another solution.
Sure, Cat will help out but she’s got classes and Chase to keep her busy so I know I can’t add more to her own pile of stress right now. Baby has Lu to take care of, and her own house. I can’t expect her to come here and take care of my man, family and home while taking time away from her own.
“I’m working on something. I think I found someone who can help out until you’re on your feet. I gotta just work out the details,” he informs me.
This is new.
“Oh? Who is it? Do I know them?” I want details. If I’m going to let someone in my home, around my family, then I want to know who the hell it is. A background check couldn’t hurt, either.
Dawson leans down to kiss me. “You know them. At least, you used to know her although she’s changed a little since then. We’ll talk about it later, okay? I’ve got a meeting. Be back late. Your mom’s gonna pick Sasha up from school and take care of dinner. Call me if you need anything.”
“Wai—” I don’t even have a chance to ask him another question before he dashes out.
I punch an innocent pillow to take out my frustrations.
This blows.
I have no idea how the hell I’m gonna get through the next however many weeks. This person that Dawson has in mind had better be up to the task. Because I have a feeling this is gonna be a long ride….
~*~
DAWSON
This asshole doesn’t know when the fuck to quit, does he?
First, he shows up at my club, breaking all kinds of rules, practically threatening me. Who the fuck does he think he is?
He runs his club, his town the way he wants and I’ll run my club and my town the way I want to.
I get he’s all worked up into a tizzy. I also told him we’d talk it all through at the Council meeting next week. Why the fuck he feels the need to pull some shit like calling this last minute meeting is beyond me.
The man must have a death wish.
I mean, I don’t care that we have a truce. It’s a fucking fragile truce and pulling shit like this is enough to cause it to unravel.
With everything going on at my house between my Ol’ lady being laid up, her bat-shit crazy sister, Tina, refusing to skip town, insisting she can help and make everything right with her family now that they need her, and not to mention the Cartel trying to pressure me to accept more shipment and inventory than we can possible move, it’s a fucking recipe for a nervous breakdown.
A weaker man would have already snapped under the pressure. But me? Nah. I’m still taking a beating and comin’ back for more.
But, I don’t need to add unnecessary shit to my plate right now, and, as far as I’m concerned, this bullshit meeting is as unnecessary as shit gets.
Vince called this meeting, one on one. Man to man. That doesn’t happen often and is almost never a good thing. By the time I turn my bike into the empty parking lot, he’s already here, parked right where he said he’d be.
“We need to stop meeting like this,” I joke. “People might think you got a hard on for me.”
He doesn’t laugh. “Sorry. You’re not my type.”
“What’s this about? I got shit to get back to.” I let my annoyance be known.
It doesn’t faze him though.
“We got a problem. A big problem,” Vince states.
Yeah, I got a problem. Him. “Well, you gonna fuckin’ tell me what it is or we gonna play charades so I can guess?”
He stares at his finger nail as if it’s bothering him. “We had a truce. One that’s worked for a while.”
It isn’t lost on me that he used the word had, as in past tense, when describing our agreement.
“You do whatever shit you want in your town. You wanna poison your own people and sell drugs that’s killing them? Go right ahead. But, your shit stays outta Chisolm. My town stays clean,” Vince gives me an unnecessary synopsis of the peace treaty.
I don’t need a refresher course in it. I helped put it together.
“And?” I’m getting bored.
He’s getting pissed. “And? And you have a fucking drug cartel move in. One that’s pushing their shit closer and closer to my borders. I told you last week I wasn’t gonna stand for it. But, I gave you the benefit of the doubt to allow you time to clean up your shit.”
Once again he gives me an unsolicited recap of something that I was present for.
“I told you I was working on it. Still am,” I remind him.
Vince shakes his head. “Well, time’s up. I was gonna sit back and watch but now shit’s changed. Your drugs came into my town. I got two dealers, your dealers, making regular trips into my territory to sell their shit.”
I have no idea what the fuck he’s talking about.
My guys know better than to set up shop in Chisolm. That’s not to stop the good people of Chisolm from seeking out their products outside of Chisolm, though.
Vince elaborates some more. “Your guys were selling their junk a block away from an elementary school. That was the last straw, and we took a vote.”
I don’t show any emotion, although, inside I’m fucking livid. If what he says is true and any of my dealers were selling near a school, regardless of what town, they’re fucking dead.
“Vote was unanimous. I’m not waiting for the Council to give approval. Truce is over, Dawson. Seems it’s back to how it used to be in the old days. Just came here to warn you.”
I read between the lines. I remember how it used to be. I remember better than most. Probably better than him, even. The shit that went down back then between our two clubs cost me more than it cost him. It cost me my brother’s life.
He was a casualty.
A casualty of war.
I guess that’s where we’re at again….
We’re. At. War.
TO BE CONTINUED IN A BRAND NEW EXTENDED LENGTH NOVEL THAT WILL CROSS OVER BETWEEN TWO SERIES
IN…
KINGSMEN VS. SLAYERS
LATE SUMMER 2016
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CHAPTER ONE
JESS
“Deny, deny, deny.”
I listen to myself and can’t help but cringe a bit at my very cliché response. I mean… isn’t that the very core, the essence, of politics? Deny until you’re backed into a corner with no other option?
Kristen, the brand-new intern, is having a pretty interesting first day, if I say so myself.
“The Senator has not now, nor has he ever, engaged in mudslinging or underhanded attacks against an opponent. We will continue to run our campaign with the utmost respect for those who ru
n against us, and make better use of our time discussing the core issues rather than attack another candidate.”
I dictate the perfect, politically correct response for Kristen to forward to the media on dad’s behalf. I feel like this is all I do lately, put out one fire after another. I know elections can get ugly. I remember the last one, even though it was six years ago and I was still in high school.
I remember the security, I remember the reports, and I remember the glamour of it all. That’s how it looked from the outside — glamorous. Now, dad’s reelection campaign is in full swing and I’m currently on the other side of things as one of his campaign advisors, I know the truth.
It’s far from glamorous. It’s far from pretty. It’s downright ugly.
And dangerous.
Only those of us closest to dad know how truly dangerous a political campaign can be. We’ve been handling the current dilemma as best we could— until now. The only viable option left is to get the FBI involved.
Cooper had been against the suggestion. He thinks we can just play along and give the blackmailers what they want without bringing in any unnecessary involvement. I know better. We pay them off today, and they’ll be back tomorrow with even bigger demands.
No. We needed help. We need help. This is my dad’s career, his life we’re talking about. There is only one person I trusted enough to ask for help.
God help me.
~*~
“He’s here, Miss Leary. Shall I send him in?”
My stomach plummets and my heart stops, literally stops.
He’s here. Of course he’s here, I’ve only been dreading this moment for the past two days and it had to come ... eventually. I swallow hard and do my best to appear busy, straightening some loose papers, anything to mask the nerves that cause my hands to tremble.
“Uh-huh, yes. Please. Send him in, Roger.”
Shit!
I have no more than two minutes before the two of them return. I jump up and run to the full-length mirror behind the closet door, then smooth out the creases in my tailored skirt and pull down firmly on the matching jacket.