by Chelle Bliss
I stopped and faced her, naked and vulnerable. “What if I want more? Maybe this isn’t good enough for me.” I had pushed the envelope; I knew it when I spoke.
Max had said that there were limits to our relationship, but I’d assumed the more time she spent with me, the more her feelings would change. Once again, I had it all wrong.
I threw up my arms and put them behind my head, giving her a full view of everything I had to offer. If I was only a fuck buddy, that’s what she’d want to see.
“I won’t accept it, Max. I know you want more. I can see it in your eyes when I’m inside you. You can pretend that you don’t feel what we have, but I can see it.” I pulled my hands forward, letting them slide through my hair before resting my palms on top of my head.
“There’s nothing you see, Anthony. You don’t know how I feel. I don’t think we should see each other anymore.”
Wait a goddamn minute. It was like déjà vu. I was about to be tossed to the curb again like yesterday’s trash.
“That’s it? You’re ending us?” My anger rose, causing my heart to beat out of rhythm. “What the fuck, Max?”
“It’s best for both of us. You’re getting too attached to me. I like fucking you, but I don’t want to be with you. I’m not your girlfriend, never will be, and can’t give you anything more than this.” She waved her arms, motioning across the bed. “If you can’t accept just fucking me, then it’s best if we end it here.”
“You’ll change your mind,” I said as I grabbed my pants off the floor.
“I won’t.”
“I don’t know who fucked your head up so bad, Max. You really should talk to someone about your issues. We have a good thing going here. No matter what your family thinks of me, we’re meant to be together.”
I closed my eyes as I spoke the words. In all my life, I’d never thought I’d mutter those words, let alone say them with such conviction. The funny thing was, I’d meant it. Fuck her and her bullshit. I dressed without looking at her and headed home.
Max and I were over, and nothing in the world would make me change my mind.
I thought it was hard to say goodbye to him the first time I kicked him out, but that was a cakewalk. I said I’d give us a chance and go on a date with him, but when we did I immediately knew the error of my ways.
The attraction we felt for each other was too great. Not only was the sex amazing, but he was easy to be with. I liked talking with him, surprisingly enough. Telling him about my father had been easy, and he seemed genuinely interested and felt sorry for me. He wasn’t the asshole I’d pegged him to be that night at the Ritz. I’m not saying he’s a saint, because Lord knows he isn’t. He had the perfect mix of cockiness and kindness, which he seemed to hide well.
I had to be brutal with him. When he started talking about meeting his family and possible future plans, I had to put an end to it all. I couldn’t let myself fall deeper for the man. I’d never believed in love at first sight. Never did I think you could know someone was right for you after only a few dates.
Anthony said it himself: we were made to be together. The problem with his statement was me. I couldn’t change my life and there wasn’t a place for him. No matter how badly I wanted to run away with him and forget about everything but us, it wasn’t a luxury I could afford.
Not because I couldn’t get lost in us. No. I didn’t want him to get lost in me.
Saying goodbye to him for a third time was like having my heart ripped out of my chest and watching it beat before my eyes. The sorrow and agony I felt in that moment didn’t compare to anything other than losing my father. Having love in front of me then pushing it away was something I didn’t want to do again.
Sometimes we can’t have what we want. Life has a way of selecting its own course, and there’s nothing we can do to hop off the trail.
No matter how badly I wanted to change my future, I couldn’t.
My heart would heal and so would his. He’d find his happily ever after while I, on the other hand, would surround myself with friends and family and forsake myself of my one true love.
It was more for his sake than mine.
At least, that was the lie I told myself as I cried myself to sleep.
9
Love is a Wicked Game
I lied.
Often, what I said I’d do and what really happened would change along the way without my control. If I were smart, I wouldn’t have gone back to her. But since I was a man and often controlled by my dick, I gave in.
Days later, Max shot me a text asking if I’d give her another shot. She missed me, missed my cock, and wanted to see me again. Like an idiot and a man with a cock, I took her back.
It wasn’t that we didn’t have issues. If we avoided talk of anything that resembled a relationship, everything was smooth sailing. I dropped any thought of taking her to Sunday dinner. We decided that it would be best to keep our visits short, with no wining and dining beforehand. I knew she didn’t want to take a chance of someone seeing us.
I knew what it looked like to an outsider. Anthony was pussy-whipped, just like every other Gallo man. There was a bit of truth to the statement, but I would argue my side until the bitter end. I couldn’t allow myself to be seen as weak.
I liked to think of myself like a caveman. Max was my prey and I was just waiting to pounce. Eventually, she’d give in. Whether she wanted to admit it or not, I knew she liked me. I’d bet my fortune that her feelings were closer to love than just mere lust.
I’d wait. Be the patient man I’d never been before and wait for Max to admit what she felt for me. The biggest hurdle would be to overcome the fact that her family didn’t approve of me. I was sure that, if they got to know me, no matter what color I am, they’d fall in love. If I could just get the chance to show her that we could work and I could get her family’s blessing…
But it wouldn’t happen overnight. I’d play the part, be her fuck buddy. Be anything she wanted to be until she felt comfortable enough to utter the words I’d always thought I’d be too big of a pussy to say.
Not too long ago, I’d thought relationships were for the weak. Slowly, I evolved. It’d only taken thirty-something years for it to happen. My luck would be that the one woman I finally wanted to chance something more with shut me out. I’d hang on, take what she had to give, and always leave her wanting more.
But eventually, we each have a breaking point.
We usually met up at night when we could find the time in our busy schedules, and I remained in the shadows. It was the lot I’d resigned myself to when I’d begged her to give me a chance that night in her shop, to give us a shot at happiness.
I thought I could handle it, but over time, I wanted to stake my claim and let the world know she was mine. It didn’t take me long to fall in love with Max. The only thing that rivaled her beauty was her attitude. I saw myself when I looked at her. Her cockiness and ability to take shit as it was thrown at her and fling it back in the face of adversity were astonishing. She didn’t let anything or anybody get in her way.
Except her family. They were in the way of our happiness, her happiness, and a possible happily-ever-after. It had been months since she’d caved in and agreed to see me as we tried to figure out what fate had in store for us.
Not only was our lovemaking epic, our fights could only be classified as nuclear. More times than I’d like to admit, she’d kick me out and put an end to our faux-relationship. She’d cave in, saying that she missed me and had fucked up. Like a dumbass, I’d forgive her and take her back.
I had become the weak one. Roles had reversed, and I’d landed in a position I’d never thought I’d be in. Love can make a person do crazy things. I’d said that I never wanted anything to change me, but without stopping it, I had become someone I barely recognized anymore.
“I’m sorry,” she whispered on my lips as she crawled in my lap.
It was about the fifth time she’d called it off and then begged my forgiveness over
the last two months. I had come to her house with a plan. I’d fuck her like she’d never been fucked and leave.
Being led by the balls and strung along had been exhausting. It had taken a toll on my music, my work, and my sleep. I was done with feeling like shit. Her moods were too much for me to handle. I wouldn’t be a pawn in her life anymore. I was more than a cock and a secret.
“I can’t do this anymore, Max.” I slumped in the chair and held her hips. “I can’t keep taking you back. I won’t do it again.” I shook my head, unable to comprehend how she had changed me.
“I promise it’ll be different. You just don’t understand what I’m going through, Anthony.” She gripped my shirt, rubbing the material between her thumb and index fingers. “It’s so hard having so much love for you and not knowing how to handle it.”
“What’s to handle? Just feel it and let it happen. Stop running away like a scared child. It’s time to grow the fuck up.” I played with the loop on her jeans, focusing my attention away from the squeezing pain in my chest.
She had ruined me. Totally destroyed the man I had been not that long ago at the Ritz. I had been a cocky motherfucker who had life by the balls. Now a woman was holding mine in a vise. I’d never understood what my brothers had gone through when they had met “the one.” I had ridiculed them and thought they were pussies, but now, I knew. Love wasn’t something you could turn off or deny. It became part of you, an ache so deep and full that it had to be filled to feel alive.
I needed to go to an addiction meeting. I needed to admit to someone outside of my family that I was Anthony Gallo and I had lost my way and needed salvation. I needed redemption from a path so cruel that I was a shell of my former self. I hated Max and myself. Her even more for the hell she’d put me through the last couple of months.
Everything in my life was as fake as Kim Kardashian’s ass on the cover of Paper magazine. I pretended not to have a girlfriend, she hid me from everyone but Malia and Nita, and we ignored the future. Actually, we swept it under the rug, pretending it wasn’t something we’d have to face soon.
She arched forward, pushing her breasts into my chest. “I promise, Anthony. I’ll do better.”
“I deserve better,” I replied. “I’ve become a better man since I’ve known you. I’m a shell of my former self, Max. The asshole you met in the bar deserves how you’re treating me, but the man sitting before you right now…sure as fuck doesn’t.”
“You’re right,” she said as she snaked her arms behind my neck. “I’m sorry. Let me make it up to you, baby.” She gave me a devilish grin that made my cock take notice.
“I like the sound of that.” I smiled at her, feeling an aching in my balls. I’d spent three days without her and felt the loss in more than my heart.
“I can do that special thing you like so much. It’s been a while.” She licked my lips as she reached down and palmed my cock.
“Mmm,” I murmured as I pressed my lips to her mouth, getting lost in her taste. “Kitty Cat,” I whispered into her mouth, “I want you to make me believe that you mean it this time.”
She pulled her lips away and gave me a lopsided smirk. “I can do that,” she promised before she crawled out of my lap, sliding down my legs.
Her fingers fumbled with the button on my jeans. It took her longer than usual to unfasten them.
“Sorry,” she said, glancing up at me. “My fingers don’t want to work.”
I placed my hands on her fingers. “Take your time. I’m in no rush, and it’s not your fingers I care about right now,” I said as I lifted my arms and laced my hands behind my head.
“I’m sure you aren’t.” She smiled as the button popped. “Finally.” She breathed a sigh of relief as she dragged the zipper down.
As she opened my jeans, I lifted my ass for her to drag my pants down, giving my aching cock the freedom it had been demanding.
“So you want…” she said before she licked the head of my cock.
My body vibrated, craving more of the warmth that only her mouth could provide.
“…it slow or fast?” she asked before drawing the tip into her mouth.
I shuddered and lost my breath. As my eyes rolled back, I tried to form words but couldn’t.
“Like this?” She drew my entire length into her mouth, swallowing the head as it hit the back of her throat.
“God,” I moaned as she began to drag my dick back out while pushing her tongue on the underside.
“Mmm,” she hummed with the head, dragging my dick back inside.
The vibrations rocked my world. A white-hot streak of pleasure shot straight to my balls, causing the need to amplify. I didn’t think I could’ve handled slow, no matter how badly I wanted to make the moment last.
The warmth of her mouth mixed with the noises she made had me picturing shit that wouldn’t drive me over the edge. I wanted to watch. Seeing a woman devouring your cock is one of the sexiest things in the world. It plays over and over again in a man’s mind for hours after it happens.
I closed my eyes, shutting out everything but how her mouth felt and her tiny groans as she sucked me off. Her pace was slow as she took her time and paid special attention to the tip. Each time her tongue whirled by my piercings, I lost my breath. The tug of her teeth pulled deep inside my dick. It was the piercing that caused it. I’d picked that type of piercing because it’s the most pleasurable for a man. Even though I cared about the orgasm of whichever woman I was with, ultimately, I wanted mine to be better…more explosive.
Her hand slid from my thigh to my balls as she palmed them. One hand worked my cock with her mouth while the other fondled me. It was perfect and heavenly. When I opened my eyes and stared down at her, an internal struggle began.
Should I fuck her and leave? I wanted to make her feel as shitty as I’d felt over the last few weeks. My head had been spinning from the back-and-forth. How could you profess your love one moment and then do a complete one-eighty and turn cold as ice?
I wound my fingers in her hair and yanked roughly, pulling her mouth off my dick. “Not like this,” I growled as she peered up at me with saliva hanging from her lips.
I tilted forward, licking her mouth clean before kissing her. As I rose to my feet, I brought her with me, my hands firmly planted on her arms. The tiny silk nighty she was wearing didn’t have a chance beneath my hands. I forwent the easier route of letting it fall off her shoulder. It tore from her skin, falling into a heap on the floor.
“Anthony,” she mumbled on my lips.
“Shhh,” I replied. Honestly, I didn’t give a fuck what she thought or how she felt. I wanted to fuck her, and when I walked out the door tomorrow, I wanted her to miss me.
After ripping off my pants, I lifted her and impaled her on my cock. Not working it in gently, making sure she was ready to handle my size. Nope. I slammed her body down over my hardened length, burying myself balls deep inside her.
“Fuck,” she hissed as her pussy clenched.
I pushed her down with more force than the first time. “Feel me?” I asked, repeating the motion.
She clawed at my shoulders as she milked me. “Anthony,” she pleaded as her feet dug into my ass.
I didn’t know if she had been begging me to stop or keep going, but either way, I didn’t relent. I didn’t make love to her like she was my girlfriend. I fucked her like I’d fucked the countless women before she’d wrecked me.
When I looked at her, watching her mouth gasp for air as I battered her with my cock, I reminded myself that she wasn’t the woman I loved. Max had two personalities, and the one fucking me back was the one I hated.
Our bodies crashed into the wall as I tried to get more traction. Resting her body on the wall, I violated her. Pumping into her like a machine, unable to stop myself until I came. Her wet heat surrounded me, milking my dick for more like a greedy bitch.
Her nails tore my skin, causing me to cry out in pain. My grunts melded with hers, sounding like the perfect melody of p
leasure. My balls grew heavy, and I felt like the end was near. Without wanting to lose the momentum I had built, I pushed her back harder toward the wall and gripped her under her legs. I pumped, slammed, and fucked her with all the anger that had been pent up inside me for weeks.
She screamed through the pleasure, enjoying every moment of the fucking I was giving her. When I grunted through the last couple of thrusts, my pace became erratic as my dick wept inside of her and I knew it would be the last time I’d feel her from the inside.
“More,” she cried out, riding my cock even though I had stopped moving.
I had no breath left, since I’d given everything I had in the pursuit of my pleasure. I released her, letting her use her body to prop herself up and continue on her carnal quest. Resting my hands on the wall and framing her face, I watched as she bucked, chasing her release.
Through my hard breaths I grinned. She had to work for her pleasure. For the first time since I’d met her, I wasn’t going to make sure she came multiple times. It was a prick move, but she deserved to be left without the satisfaction only I could bring.
Just as her body stiffened and she began to cry out, the doorbell rang.
“Oh my God!” she yelled as her pussy contracted, milking my softening dick.
Clutching my shoulder, she ignored the door and continued to ride me like a fuck toy. It was how she’d treated me lately, so why would this night have been any different?
When her head fell forward, the doorbell rang again.
“Fuck,” she mumbled on top of my shoulder. “I can’t,” she blew out between breaths.
It double rang. Whoever was standing on the other side of the door was persistent.
“Go get dressed and I’ll answer it,” I told her as she slid down my body.
“Okay,” she said as she tried to stand on wobbly legs, swaying slightly. “Whoever it is, tell them to go away.”
“It’s probably some asshole selling something,” I said, picking my pants up and pulling them on as the doorbell chimed again. “Coming. Christ!” I yelled as I zipped up my pants and stalked toward the door with the button left undone. “What?” I barked as I flung open the door and grabbed for my button.
“Um,” a small voice said with a squeak.
My eyes slowly drifted up after seeing a pair of red flats. There were a couple of things I knew in this moment. First off, those were not Nita’s or Malia’s feet. I’d heard them talk about fashion enough to know they would never wear flats. The flowered dress that hung below her knees screamed grandma, or mother at least.
A few weeks before, I might have freaked out, but now I smiled to myself, knowing that Max’s charade would come crumbling down.
My gaze meandered up her body, finally settling on her face. I grinned at her. She was definitely Max’s mother. I stared at her, waiting to hear her screams, but her reaction totally threw me for a loop.
Her eyes scanned over me, taking time to soak in my chest before they met mine. Instead of yelling, she gave me a sinful stare and held out her hand.
“And you are?” she asked with a smooth, sultry voice.
“I’m Anthony,” I said, grasping her hand and placing a small kiss on the delicate flesh lining the top.
“Did you tell them to go away, babe?” Max yelled from the bedroom.
I touched my lips, begging the woman to remain silent. I turned and yelled back, “Yeah. They left, Max.”
“Thank shit. They almost ruined my orgasm.”
I looked back at her mother, and her mouth had dropped open.
“Take your time, love,” I called out.
“Be out in five. I have to put some clothes on.”
“And you are?” I asked the woman, who was still holding my hand.
“I’m Max’s mother, Ruth.” Her smile had transformed into something different. Maybe she was pissed off because I’d just fucked her daughter. No mother, no matter the race, wants to hear that.
“Ruth, I’m surprised you haven’t yelled yet,” I said as I stroked her hand with my thumb.
Her gaze returned to my face for a beat. “Why?”
“Max told me you had a problem with us seeing each other. I know you don’t like that I’m white.”
“What?” she asked as her voice grew shrill.
“You don’t have to deny it, Ruth. I’m just hoping I can change your mind.” I released her hand, letting it drop.
“Baby, I don’t know who filled your head with that nonsense. I never said anything about you being white. In fact, I didn’t know anything about you. I’m not entirely pleased that you just had sex with my baby, but it has nothing to do