by Stella Rhys
Jesse exhaled. “Thank Christ,” he murmured, squeezing my hand and kissing my cheek – or rather, the corner of my lips. Then he went back to his music. I sat frozen, realizing from my peripherals that the stewardess who’d been chatting up Abram had left. His line of vision was open again and he had seen what Jesse had just done. I could make out the tenseness in his shoulders.
“Oh. The fuck. I didn’t realize that, uh…” Next to me, Suit stammered some apology but I couldn’t even think about him anymore. All I wanted was to get up out of my seat and explain to Abram what had just happened, but I also didn’t want to be stared at or cause even the slightest bit of a scene. So heaving a sigh, I simply sat back in my chair and waited for the next five hours to be over. If anything, I was thankful that Jesse hadn’t let himself have too much fun while playing my boyfriend. He certainly could’ve done worse than kiss my cheek. I could only imagine how Abram would’ve reacted if Jesse had decided to carry out his charade for any longer.
Especially since the small kiss was clearly enough to get his testosterone pumping. An hour later, in the bathroom, I heard a knock. Something about its hard, neat sound was distinctly Abram. My heart instantly pounded as I stared at the door, wondering what I was about to get from him if I opened it. I had barely cracked it when in one motion, he pushed it open walked in and locked it behind us. “Abram!” I hissed, trying to read his stony expression. “What the hell are you – ” He shut me up with his mouth crushed over mine, his hands up my shirt and his groin pinning me against the wall. He gripped my jaw and kissed over the skin Jesse had planted his lips, reclaiming it as his. Once the shock passed, I kissed Abram back, a rush of excitement surging through my body as he unzipped his jeans, took out his cock and wrapped my hand around it. The hand Jesse had held just before, of course.
“That’s yours,” Abram muttered as he moved my grip over his shaft. “And this,” he swept his tongue inside my mouth, “is mine.” Closing his fingers over my breasts, he squeezed. “This is mine.” He hiked my skirt up till it was a ring around my waist. Spreading my legs, he pushed my panties aside. “And this tight pussy,” he squeezed the base of his shaft and positioned it just outside my lips, “is mine,” he muttered. And with that, he gave a hard push and filled me up in a way that had me gasping for breath. Lifting my legs off the ground, Abram pinned me to the wall with short, quick thrusts into my pussy. The sensation and the taboo – all of it was overwhelming. I wrapped my arms and legs around him, the sounds of his rhythmic pumping and my soaking pleasure completely filling up the small space. I felt him breathing louder, harder with every upward slam into my body. “Say it,” Abram demanded without breaking his merciless pace.
“I’m yours,” I gasped, tightening around him, watching the angry pleasure glaze over his eyes.
“You belong to me.”
“Yes,” I exhaled. “I belong to you.”
Closing my eyes, I reveled in the pleasured grunts he gave with every confirmation I breathed into his skin. He groaned with all-around satisfaction, wrapping my legs tighter around him, pushing himself as deep inside me as he possibly could. And for a moment, he stayed still, whispering into my lips and relishing in being inside me, savoring the sensation of my walls pulsing hot around his flesh. “You,” he finally thrust again, “and you alone,” he kissed me, “make me the luckiest man on this fucking Earth.” When the ferocious orgasm quaked through me, he helped me muffle it.
And after, we stood there catching our breaths for a moment. His forehead on mine, he stroked my cheek, eyes open, fireworks lighting behind it as he took me in. His gaze didn’t break from me until somebody knocked. Abram cracked a cute grin as I pleaded with him, eventually agreeing to go back out first. When it was my turn, I prepared an apologetic look for whomever stood there. Unless it’s Suit, because fuck that guy.
But it was Jesse.
Hands in his pockets, head tilted up, he leaned on the door opposite mine, pinning a lazy but unblinking gaze on me as he watched me walk out. It was the Jesse Toro way of looking pissed. I was sure that Abram had reveled in this. My cheeks reddened as I slowed my step just a bit, waiting to hear some snarky comment or smug little jab. But I got nothing. Jesse went into the bathroom without a word. But when he came back to the seat next to mine, he shook his head and gave a bitter laugh.
“I kissed your cheek. Imagine if he knew about the other places I’ve touched you,” he murmured under his breath, enjoying my glare for a moment before returning to his music.
~
Abram drove us in a black truck from Reno to the little town of Singer. The bright blue sky was a stark contrast to the dried out trees, paint-chipped buildings and faded storefronts emblazoned with blocky fonts from the Old West. “Am I in a fucking John Wayne movie?” In the backseat with me, Nate stared out the window, squinting as we passed a dingy bar named Applejack Saloon. “Christ, maybe Stefan offed himself for us. Didn’t think he could live without nightclubs and bottle service.”
I caught Jesse’s grimace and wished I didn’t feel that second of protectiveness. But it was his little brother we were talking about. I breathed out when he recovered quickly. “Relocation tends to be in Bumblefuck towns. But I’m pretty sure Stef chose this one because he knows somebody here. Defeats the purpose of laying low but he’s an idiot, so what can I say.”
I hadn’t seen Abram so much as look in Jesse’s direction since getting off the plane, but there was no time for personal grudges now. It was time to do work. “How close is the friend?” he asked, glancing at the passenger seat. I could see his irritation in Jesse’s booted feet up on the dash.
“Are you asking whether he’d choose loyalty over a bribe? Because he was one of many coke dealers Stefan thought was an actual friend and I hear he’s got a jolly ol’ meth habit these days. So no, he’s not close and yes, we can probably use him to our advantage.” The news relieved me. So did the fact that Abram and Jesse could carry a productive albeit short conversation without brawling. If things continued this smoothly, hopefully we wouldn’t be here for long. It was interesting, a bit novel to be in some dusty cowboy town but I could already feel through the windows that the heat was through the roof. Somewhere in the low hundreds. I had stupidly brought only long jeans to wear but my bigger concern was the agitation the temperatures might cause. The existing tension among these three was enough without needing even the smallest outside factor to tip the scale.
“I’d bet my hat that you folks aren’t from anywhere near here.” The blonde manning the desk at the hotel stared at us.
We were now several towns away from Singer, just as a precaution. Though Jesse gave the cash for four rooms, I put my bags in Abram’s. Jesse eyed them when he and Nate dropped by in the afternoon, to discuss their plan. I tuned them out when the conversation turned to the grislier details that truly reminded me why I was here. I could pretend all I wanted that I was on a simple road trip with two hotheads and an asshole, but the reality was that I was accompanying three men aimed to kill. I closed my eyes, trying to hear no more after catching Jesse’s brief plea to “be humane about it – quick and painless.” It was too real. I had hoped that the mission would never sink in for me, that I could leave Nevada once the boys were done and pretend that we’d only gone for a change in scenery. But I knew that wasn’t realistic.
Especially when it was decided that I was actively needed to lure out Stefan Toro.
“I don’t understand.” I blinked up at Jesse from the dusty floral armchair, Abram seated on the ottoman across from me while Jesse and Nate stood at my sides. “Why would it be better for Stefan to see you and a stranger and not just you?”
“Because you make me less threatening to anyone, including Stefan,” he answered. “It’s the couple effect. People are more likely to pick up a man hitchhiking with his wife than a man hitchhiking alone. I’m his brother but Stefan still knows to be at least a little afraid of me. Even if I play dumb about him working with the FBI, I’ll still know that he faked his fucking
death and put us all through hell.”
Abram leaned forward on his knees, facing me with a serious eye and a half-furrowed brow. I didn’t realize how that look melted me to nothing till just now. “It would help if you did it, Isla,” he said. “We don’t want to take any chances raising suspicion.” Jesus. If Abram was confirming it, then I figured it had to be true. I was well aware that he wouldn’t send me off with Jesse if it weren’t truly necessary. Wringing my hands, I chewed my lip, trying to come to terms with the fact that I wouldn’t just be sitting on the sidelines. It took some time but they gave it to me.
“Okay,” I finally muttered, holding my trembling hands still between my thighs. “But I’m warning you that I don’t know how I’ll act when I’m nervous. I’m nervous right now and Stefan’s not even in the room. I’m not a good actress. I know that for a fact.”
“Don’t worry. It doesn’t take a whole lot to paint a convincing picture for Stefan. He’s an idiot and you’re a hot brunette who already looks exactly like the kind of girl I’d date,” Jesse said, cracking a smirk when he felt Abram glance at him. “We’ll just need you to make a few changes to dress the part.”
“Is that really necessary?” Abram asked dryly.
Jesse reveled in his irritation. “Oh, I think so.”
chapter seventeen
Stefan’s old dealer worked at Applejack Saloon. Jesse and I headed over there in a rented Ford Ranger, fully dented and probably a nice, bright red when it was new. Now, it was covered in layers of dust and filth. I figured it matched my somewhat dirty new look. For Jesse, I’d cut my jeans messily into shorts and cropped my black T-shirt to show navel. Half of my hair went up in a bouffant and since I only had mascara, a begrudging Nate went to the drug store to buy some ninety-nine cent liner, which I applied generously below my lashline.
“Ideally, we’d lay you out in the sun till you were a burnt orange color, but I’m sure this’ll suffice,” Nate said, leaning against the desk. Abram smirked as he handed me a shot of liquid courage.
“I’ll be seven seconds from you no matter where you are with him. If you need me, let me know and I’ll be there,” he said, kissing the tingle of whiskey from my lips till Nate groaned and said it was time to leave. Abram walked me to Jesse’s car, struggling to leave my side till the last second.
“Don’t do that.” In the driver’s seat, Jesse pretended to scold me as I pulled down the mirror to smudge my eyeliner. “If you’re going to play my girlfriend, you should be concentrating on acting like a crazy person right now.”
I rolled my eyes. “If you meet an asshole in the morning, he’s an asshole. If you meet assholes all day, you might be the asshole.” I ran the back of my finger under my eye to thin the liner just a bit. “Maybe your girlfriends weren’t all crazy, Jesse. Maybe it was you.”
“Couldn’t it be both?”
“Knowing you.”
“Knowing me,” he laughed. “You don’t know shit about me.”
I walked right into the trap. “We both know that’s not true.”
Jesse peered through his rearview mirror to see if Abram and Jesse were still following. “That’s right,” he said as if just realizing. “You know more about me than most of my real girlfriends ever did. We should be able to play these roles beyond convincingly.” I flashed him a look of warning. He laughed. “I’m not trying to trick you into shoving your hands down my pants, Isla, I’m just saying affection is probably going to be a part of the act. Once we find Stefan, you’re going to need to look decently convincing. He doesn’t know a lot of things but he’s pretty well-versed on women and the kind I choose to date.”
“From what I gather, you like them half-dressed, half-sane and constantly providing some form of pleasure.”
“You do catch on fast.” Jesse grinned when I rolled my eyes at him, the whiskey helping my irritation trump my nerves. “What can I say? Dating crazy chicks is like an addiction. You know you shouldn’t do it but you really can’t stop.”
“You should stop if only for the reason that you talk down on them all the time. To the point that even your little niece knows. Your mom raised you, Jesse, you can’t possibly think that all women are crazy.”
“I don’t. I just think the crazy ones are best for me because they’re really good in bed,” he grinned naughtily at me till I had to look away. But for the next few seconds, he drove in silence. I could tell he was thinking. “You’re not crazy though, and you felt like Heaven on my dick.” When I let out a groan, he backtracked. “Okay, let me phrase that with more class: you’re smart, you’re beautiful and you made me blow my load early, which I never do.”
“Jesse.”
“Alright, alright, I’ll be serious this time,” he laughed. We stopped at a light and he leaned back in his chair, pausing and giving me a genuine look. “You’re the full package guys dream about, Isla Maran. A life with you would turn a boy into a man and knowing you exist makes me reevaluate the years I’ve spent chasing girls with histories of breaking and entering. How’s that work for you?”
I tried not to laugh. “Better.”
He smirked as the light turned green. “Good,” he murmured as we peeled off again.
~
The inside of the saloon was darker than dark, and it wasn’t a stylistic choice so much as a light bulb outage in more than half of the lamps. Jesse grinned, seeming to instantly like it. I stiffened when he slipped an arm around my waist but forced myself to relax when he snorted.
“Hey, man, what can I getcha.” The bartender sounded as bored as he looked.
“We’ll take two Jamesons.” Jesse looked at me. “Probably on the rocks for her.”
My lips twisted into a wry smile left. “You regularly ordered for your girlfriends?” I murmured before calling down the bar. “I’m actually gonna have a Redbreast neat.” The bartender raised his brows and stuck his lips out in approval – as much expression as I’d see from him. Shaking his head, Jesse looked at me and muttered under his breath. “Don’t grumble, Jesse, that’s every girlfriend’s pet peeve.”
“I don’t think you want to hear what I had to say.”
“What did you say.”
“‘Oddly arousing.’ As in I never thought I’d get hard from getting shown up by a girl.”
“You’re right, I probably didn’t want to hear that.”
“Your man knows you well,” Jesse smirked as the bartender returned to put our drinks in front of us. Jesse faced him. “Hey, brother. Does Mikey Guinness still work here?”
“I ask myself the same question every day.”
“What do you mean?”
“Slacker’s always here but he never really shows up,” the bartender said before shouting through a door. “Mikey! You got friends.”
I easily figured at that point that Mikey Guinness was Stefan’s old dealer. It took a good minute before he showed up, looking very much the part. He was a disheveled kid around my age, gaunt in the face and spaced out in the eyes. Once handsome, he’d probably gone on several too many benders. If it weren’t so dark, I could probably confirm his dilated pupils. “Hey! Hey, what’s up, man?” he greeted Jesse zealously in quintessential stoner voice. “Shit, what’s your name again?”
“Jesse.”
“That’s right, that’s right,” Mikey nodded, clearly having no idea who Jesse was. Jesse squinted at him, as if genuinely concerned that he’d hit his head at some point.
“I’m Stef’s brother.”
“Ohhh. Right on.” Mikey kept nodding. “Right on.”
“Yeah. You seen him around?”
“Yeah, man! I mean, no. No, man. He bailed, you know. We kicked it for a couple weeks but then he was like, ‘I’m out.’”
Jesse was outwardly calm but I could see the green of his eyes shining brighter. I could practically hear his heart beating faster. “What do you mean he was out?”
“What do you mean what do I mean?” Mikey laughed as if Jesse had told a great joke. “I mean he’s out
, bro. He hasn’t been in town for awhile.”
“Where did he go?”
Mikey shrugged. “Better places, man.”
I stared at the kid, unsure if having him was great or awful. As easily as he was giving up information, he was still making things pretty hard.
“Did he say at all where he was going?”
“Nah.”
Jesse’s attitude shifted. “I have something pretty important to tell him. I could really use some information.” The gritty tone of his voice made Mikey blink, like he was confused as to why he suddenly felt uneasy.
“Uh. Last week he said something about Reno but I’m thinking he’s made moves since then.”
I could see Jesse’s hand forming a fist under the counter. I wasn’t sure if he was frustrated or about to beat the information out of Mikey, despite the fact that we both knew Mikey wasn’t holding anything back. He was either telling the truth or too burned out to remember a thing. I eyed Jesse’s knuckles under the counter, my pulse beating with increasing speed as they jutted further and further out of his skin. I wet my lips. Hold on a second. Looking up, I tilted my head and smiled sweetly.
“Mikey, you said he was in Reno last week?”
Mikey looked at me as if only just realizing I was there. “Whoa, break my heart why don’tcha,” he grinned, clutching his chest and pretending to stumble back. Jesse gave a short, annoyed laugh. “Yeah. He was in Reno last week, but he said he was gonna leave that night.”
“You said you hadn’t seen Stefan in awhile. That he left town after a couple weeks.”
Mikey frowned at me. “Yeah?” He looked thoroughly confused by me. “He did. I haven’t seen him in ages. But he’s been texting me.”
Jesse’s head shot back up. “He’s been texting you?” I heard him whisper “fucking idiot” as Mikey nodded.
“Yeah, man. He says he’s got no one good to party with but I’m just like, I got a baby mama now. I can’t just leave to party, you know?”
“Mm,” I nodded, in a daze as he was called away by the irritated bartender. Unblinking, I stared ahead, a million fragmented thoughts trying to come together and form something coherent. The second they did, I grabbed Jesse. “I have an idea.”