by Alyse Zaftig
Under His Protection
Alyse Zaftig
Contents
1. Jessica
2. Jason
3. Jessica
4. Jason
5. Jessica
6. Jason
7. Jessica
8. Jason
9. Jessica
10. Jason
11. Jason
12. Jessica
Note
1
Jessica
JB Duvane
I handed the valet my ticket and shivered in the cold night air. “Black Jeep Cherokee.”
“Right away.”
“Please, hurry,” I called out as the young man ran around to the back of the club. I turned and looked at the tinted glass, hoping that group of men hadn’t followed me out. That was the last time I’d listen to my friend, Stephanie. She was always wanting to try the latest craze, and this week it was an exclusive, all-night dance club held in an abandoned building in a part of town that should have been leveled a decade ago. Then she disappeared on me and left me to fend for myself around the drunks and losers. I don’t know who this club was exclusive to, but it sure as hell wasn’t anyone I’d want to go home with.
The valet brought my Jeep up to the curb and hopped out. “Here you go,” he said, holding the door open for me. I handed him a five and got in. This night was getting more and more expensive by the minute.
I took one more look at the double doors that led into the club and my stomach sank. There they were, all four of those guys who wouldn’t leave me alone for the last half hour. They’d been trying to buy me drinks and get me to dance, and no matter how many times I said no, they wouldn’t give up. And now they saw me get into this car.
“Fuck,” I said out loud as I watched them walk toward a black SUV that had pulled up right behind me. “How the hell did they get their car so fast?”
I didn’t want to wait for all four of them to pile in, so I hit the gas and sped off, barely making it through a yellow light as it turned to red.
As I breathed a sigh of relief, I wondered why there would be a stoplight at that intersection. There were no other cars around for blocks. When I glanced up into my rearview mirror my stomach sank again. The car behind me ran the red light at that desolate intersection. It had to be those guys.
What the hell do they want from me?
That was a stupid question. What do all men want? I rolled my eyes at myself for getting into, yet another, stupid jam at the hands of Stephanie, and vowed to never let her talk me into going out with her again. I just hoped I was going to be able to get myself out of this one.
I wasn’t sure which way to turn to get to a busy street that I was familiar with, so I just took a chance. I took a sharp right and wound up on a dark street with massive pot holes. I didn’t know about the potholes because I could see them, I knew about them because about halfway down the block I felt one. Hard.
Before I had the chance to hit the brakes, one of my front tires drove into a deep hole and my Jeep bottomed out on the pavement. I popped up and out on the other side, but the damage had already been done. I could feel the tilt that told me I had a blowout. I was able to guide my car over to the side of the road, but all I could hear was metal scraping on concrete, and before I knew it, I came to a complete stop.
“Fuck!” I yelled as I hit the steering wheel with both hands. I hit the switch that make sure all the doors were locked and pulled my phone out of my purse. When I touched the screen and it came to life, I stared at the glowing display in disbelief. “How the hell is there no service here?!” I exclaimed. “I’m in the middle of the city!”
I stuffed the phone back into my purse and twisted around to see if anyone was on the street. I couldn’t believe my luck. This was the worst possible place to break down. The dimly lit street was lined with dark warehouses, most of which had boarded up windows and thick chains on the doors. And I didn’t see a sign of life anywhere.
“Well, at least those guys gave up,” I said to myself as I opened up my car door. I had no choice, I was going to have to walk to find help. But as I looked up and down the street, I had no idea which way to go. Plus I had on my most ridiculously high, strappy sandals and a silver dress that barely came down mid-thigh. I cursed at myself again as I shut the car door, then headed off in the same direction I’d been driving.
The only sound I could hear was the scrape-click of my shoes as they hit the sidewalk, and the echo as my footsteps bounced off the warehouse walls.
But then I heard something else.
Behind me was the sound of an engine turning over and, without looking, I knew. It was those guys. They must have pulled over when they saw me hit the pothole and waited for their chance. And now they had the perfect opportunity.
I turned my head and watched that same black SUV pull right along side me. It kept its pace with me for at least ten steps, then came to a stop. I heard a door open and the sound of a man getting out. “You need a ride, sweetheart?” he yelled, but I didn’t answer him. I didn’t look at him or slow down. I just kept walking like I knew where I was going and what I was doing, even though that was laughable. Who in their right mind would be out in this weather in a micro dress and six-inch heels? This wasn’t a walk of shame, it was a walk of stupidity.
I picked up the pace, but with each of my steps, could hear the man behind me take two, until I felt his hand close around my arm. I screamed, then felt his hand on my mouth, and before I realized what was happening, he pushed me into a dark alcove. The other men were already out of the car and suddenly I realized I was surrounded by four bodies, each a head taller than me, and each with a strength in their arms that I couldn’t even hope to fight in my wildest dreams.
I could feel tears stream down my cheeks as they pulled at my arms and legs. I couldn’t move and in my terror I couldn’t even think. The only words that repeated over and over in my head were this can’t be happening to me.
But then I heard something that brought me out of my stupor. I was suddenly surrounded by the sounds of yelling and I knew it couldn’t be coming from me. There was still a hand over my mouth.
As I stood there, pressed up against the cold, brick building, I heard the kind of noises I would have expected to come from me—the sounds of pain and terror. But what I was hearing was someone else’s pain and someone else’s terror. Then I realized that there were only two men holding me down.
Then only one.
Then there were no hands on me anymore and the only person standing in front of me was someone else entirely. He was bigger than any of those other men and taller. He wore a black t-shirt and jeans, while those other four had on dark suits. I watched him as he bent down and picked a leather jacket up off the ground, and as I did my eyes scanned the street in front of me. All four of those men were down there, lying on the pavement like rag dolls that had been gutted and tossed aside.
I couldn’t believe what I was seeing. One man had done this. He had pulled all four of those thugs off of me. He had saved me.
I wanted to thank him. I wanted to run up to him and throw my arms around him in gratitude. But the only words I could manage to force from my dry throat were “Who are you?”
2
Jason
Alyse Zaftig
Fuck, the girl in front of me was dressed in half a dress that barely even touched her thighs and six-inch heels that looked like they belonged to a professional stripper, the kind that charged a normal man’s monthly wages just for an hour in the VIP room. I tried not to get distracted by the way that her thighs moved when she shifted her weight between her feet.
“You shouldn’t be here,” I told her, ignoring her question. With any luck, the hot chick would leave bef
ore my business deal started. I looked at my watch and cursed. I was about to be late.
She rolled her eyes at me and put a hand on her hip. “Do I look like I want to be here?”
I looked her up and down slowly. I was late, but maybe it was worth it. “Your nipples are hard, so probably.”
She yelped and crossed her arms. “I’m just cold. I can’t believe you!”
“Believe it, sweetheart.” I looked around. There weren’t any taxis in this part of town. No self-respecting taxi driver would be caught dead here. If you didn’t have a car, you’d need to walk to a nicer neighborhood and hail a cab there. If you did have a car, this was the area of town that you went through with the doors locked and the windows shut tightly. “Why the hell are you here?”
“My car broke down,” she explained. “Not that it’s any of your business.” She tossed her hair over her shoulder. She was giving me attitude, even though I was more than a foot and a half taller than her.
“It’s my business because you got yourself cornered by some drunken idiots. I didn’t hear a thank you.”
“Thank you,” she said. I knew she didn’t mean it.
Even in six-inch heels, she didn’t come up to my shoulder. I’d learned a long time ago that survival of the fittest worked. I should just leave her here and let the chips fall where they may.
But something that my mother had taught me long ago about protecting women, some shred of decency that still lingered after all that the world had taught me, made me sigh before I said, “You’re coming with me.”
“No!” she squeaked. “You’re a stranger. This is a terrible part of town.”
“Do you want to be alone?”
She looked around and crossed her arms a little tighter. There was a guy on the corner doing heroin while sitting with his back against a wall. He had track marks on his arm, and the needle probably wasn’t sterile. The ragged blanket he was sitting on probably hadn’t been washed in a few years.
“No.” Her voice was small. Her shoulders hunched a little. She looked like a lost little girl, even though she was dressed like a temptress.
“Then you’re coming with me.” I looked at her shoes. “The sidewalk here isn’t even. You’re going to break your ankles. I don’t have time for that.” Before she could say anything, I picked her up in my arms.
“Oh my god! Put me down!” She started slapping at my face, shoulders, and arms.
“Stop that.” I pretended to start to drop her, which made her cling to my neck instead of trying to wiggle free. I could smell her perfume when she moved closer to me. She smelled like lilies and rain. I could feel myself getting hard just from that. Damn. From this angle, I could see straight down her cleavage even though the dress wasn’t that low cut. I forced myself to stop looking.
“I’m too heavy,” she protested. “You’re going to drop me.”
“You don’t weigh anything,” I said. “I’ve carried packs twice your weight in the godforsaken desert.” I shut up. Those missions were still classified.
“Where are we going?” She seemed to be rolling with the punches now and was resting her head against my shoulder. Or maybe she was just waiting for her chance to get free.
“A business meeting,” I said.
“What kind of business meeting?” she asked.
“You’ll see when we get there.”
“But…”
I shifted her into a fireman’s carry so I could spank her ass. “Enough with the questions already. When we get there, just keep your mouth shut and look pretty.”
“Fuck you,” she spat, upside down and trying to kick her way free. “Put me down!”
“Behave, or your ass is going to be so sore you won’t be able to sit for a week.”
She didn’t stop, though. This little half-drunk wildcat was going to hurt herself. I swatted her ass as a warning.
“Ow!”
“Stop wiggling.” I was ten minutes late now. Don Lorenzo was a paranoid fucker who used cell-phone jammers and didn’t allow strange vehicles within a mile of his place, which was why I was on foot and carrying a squirming bundle of club-hopping bunny to a meeting before she got herself robbed and killed looking like that in a place like this. She’d chosen the wrong place for her car to break down.
“You could’ve called Triple A, you know.” She was a little muffled when she was talking upside down.
“No time,” I said. “And cell phones don’t work here.”
“Really? Yours doesn’t work, either? I tried to call someone, anyone, but I didn’t have a signal.”
I snorted. “You’re definitely not from around here.”
“Why doesn’t the cell phone company put in a tower?”
“Signals are jammed,” I said. Her dress was riding higher with each step I took, and I could see an expanse of smooth skin and luscious ass right next to my face. She was wearing a lacy thong. I licked my lips. I was probably going to hell for the kinds of thoughts I was having about her.
“Who would do that?” she asked. “That’s a dick move.”
She was either stupid or innocent. Or both. “We’re about to meet him.”
“Who?”
“Don Lorenzo.”
“Don? What is this, The Godfather? Do people even go by that these days?”
“Yes.”
“Yes to which question?”
“All of them.”
“Let me go!” she said, trying to get off of my shoulder. To stop her from sliding down, I put my hand on one bare ass cheek. “I don’t want to get involved with the mafia or mob, whatever they call it.”
“Too late, beautiful,” I said. “We’re already here.”
3
Jessica
Alexis Angel
“Where are we?” she asks. “How are we already here?”
I give her a smirk. “You’re safe here for now,” I say.
She sees the look in my eye. Her face goes red. She realizes that I’ve brought her into an oasis of safety. A lavishly appointed safehouse in the middle of the fucking urban jungle. Paid for by the mob. For situations where we need to hide out.
“What are you going to do to me?” she asks. Her breathing gets heavy. She’s flushed.
My cock is hard. We’re ready.
I place my hands on her hips and, without breaking eye contact, I pull her into me. I lean in, brush my lips against hers, and run the tip of my tongue between her lips.
I feel her warm breath against my mouth, and my cock hardens up in a fraction of a second. My heart starts to drum up a song of lust and desire, and boiling blood rushes down to between my thighs. Fuck, I’m so hard I’m surprised my cock hasn’t torn the fabric of my pants.
“Is this all for me?” She asks, placing one hand on my crotch and flattening the palm of her hands against the bulging shape hiding underneath the fabric. Before I have the time to reply, she goes down on her knees and hooks her fingers on my belt. She unbuckles it fast, and then pulls my zipper down.
She moves fast, tilting her head sideways and pressing her mouth against my cock, over the fabric of my boxer briefs. She gives me one hard suck and then, moving fast again, she pulls my boxers down. My cock springs free in a moment, almost slapping her cheek, and then she just dives into it.
Opening her mouth wide, she rolls her lips down the length of my shaft, only stopping when I feel the tip of my cock against the back of her throat. She starts bobbing her head back and forth, doing it as fast as is humanly possible, and I just place my hands on top of her head and exhale sharply.
Fuck, she’s good.
She keeps on sucking me until I feel ready to explode, and I just force myself to stop. I tangle my fingers in her hair, forcing her to be still, and then she pops my cock out of her mouth and looks up at me, her eyes wide with desire.
“Come here,” I whisper, pulling her up to her feet. Before she has the chance to do anything, I press her against the wall and crush my lips on hers. I slip my tongue past her lips, par
ting them, and both our tongues start a frenzied dance.
Her hands slide down the side of my body, and then she jumps up and into me, crossing her legs around my waist. She draws me in, locking me in place, and I allow instinct to take the steering wheel.
I let my pants drop down my legs, and then I push her dress up to her waist, revealing her black lace thong.
“Let’s get that off,” I groan, hooking my fingers on her thong and pulling it against her outer thigh. I hear the fabric rip, and that’s music to my ears. I brush my fingertips against her pussy, and feeling it wet, I feel a lustful smile taking over my lips.
She’s more than ready.
Now it’s the time to make her mine.
Grabbing her by the hair, I force her to throw her head back and just press my body against hers, the tip of my cock brushing against her wet pussy lips.
“I want it, I want it now,” she whispers, pure desperation coating her lips. Well, I’m more than happy to answer her sweet pleas. Without saying a word, I simply close my eyes and push my cock inside her pussy, thunder and lightning shooting up my spine as I feel my shaft parting her inner lips.
Her warmness, her tightness…it’s almost too much.
But I keep control. I’m always in control.
Slowly, I start to thrust, and I feel her hands roaming over my back. Her fingernails draw awkward lines over my shoulder blades, hard enough to leave a mark, but I barely feel it. My brain is busy with its task, which is processing the tightness of her pussy.
I keep on thrusting, slowly picking up the pace. I go faster as I hear her moans of pure delight, the sound of her voice making me lose all control. I’m always in control, I know…but sometimes you gotta let go.