Wrangler

by Dani Wyatt

  “Jenson!” She clutched at the cushions of my couch.

  “Yeah, baby?” I grinned, knowing I had her at a disadvantage with my fingers buried deep inside her. There was no turning back now.

  “Please, I want to feel you.”

  “Want to feel what? Say it.” I forced the dirty words from her mouth, the idea of corrupting her innocence and naiveté turned me on even more.

  “Your penis. I want your penis buried inside me,” she begged in a rush, and my cock flexed painfully in my pants. I smiled at how she wouldn’t say “cock.”

  I palmed my dick, trying to relieve some of the pressure, trying to prolong some of the sweet agony. I slid my finger to the hilt deep inside of her, then added another, slowly stretching her, knowing she’d need to be prepared for me.

  “You’re going to feel so good,” I whispered, nipping at the flesh of her neck, teasing the little marks with my tongue to caress the bite away. “So fucking good I don’t even think I’ll be able to think straight.”

  I traced my tongue across the line of her thigh, then inhaled the sweet smell of her delicious pussy. Tightening my hands at her knees, I buried my head between her thighs and tasted the sweet arousal pooling between her legs. “Goddamn, you don’t know what you do to me.”

  I caught the passionate flare of her eyes before I figure-eighted my tongue at the tight bud of her clit. “I want all of you tonight. Don’t hold back on me, baby,” I crooned, then pushed my tongue through the aroused flesh of her pussy lips and lapping at her core.

  “I-I’m going to cum.” Her legs tensed and tightened around my ears as I grabbed her ass cheeks in my palms and pulled her to me, feasting on her body, just like I’d promised.

  “Not yet, baby. I want your sweet pussy to cum all over my cock.” I removed my mouth from her sensual body and crawled up her form, taking her face in my palms and thrusting my tongue between her lips. She moaned, her hands pushing through my hair while I pulled the zip on my jeans, releasing my burning cock from my pants as we kissed, desperate to get inside her.

  “Hurry,” she begged. “I promise I’m clean.”

  “I am too, baby. I’ve gone without for so long, and even before then I always used protection.” I grasped my dick in my palm and eased it between her juicy pussy lips. “But with you, I want to feel every raw inch of you. I’ll use a condom if you ask me to, but I really want you bare, sweetheart.”

  She moaned and writhed, nodding vigorously as she wrapped her tiny fist around my cock and slid my length up and down her slit, coating me in her juices, paying close attention to rolling the tip over that hungry little bud of hers.

  “Jenson,” she breathed as her hips jerked.

  It was all the confirmation I needed. I slid past the tight flesh of her pussy, relishing the feel of her tight muscles flexing and warming my cock. Her soft pants and moans, the way her hand shot into her hair and mussed it around her shoulders while she begged for more, she drove me wild.

  “You feel so damn good. God, I could stay buried in you forever.”

  Her eyes shot open, riveted on where we were locked together.

  “If that’s how you look with my cock deep inside your hungry pussy, I may never let you leave.” I pulled her up my body, forcing her to lock lips with me as I pushed the rest of the way inside her. My hips flexed, mimicking the thrust of my tongue between her supple raspberry lips.

  “I’ve never felt anything like this.” I jerked, and her inner walls clenched and tightened around my member. “So sweet, so tight, so responsive,” I muttered, my tongue devouring the inside of her mouth. I was determined to walk around in her scent for the next week.

  “This is incredible. You feel incredible.” Her words melded together as her hips started to pitch wildly, her thighs tightening around my waist as I clutched at her ass cheeks.

  “Fuck, so beautiful.” I plunged my hand between us, rolling my thumb over the sensitive bud of her slit as her nails clutched at the muscles of my back and a guttural howl gasped from her lips.

  My own release followed moments later, spurred on by her insatiable bucking, and both of our bodies fell, limp and sticky against the couch. Our chests inflated feverishly as we gasped up the oxygen between us.

  “Oh my God,” she whispered, running a hand through her wild locks of cocoa hair.

  “Yeah,” was the only reply I could manage.

  “Should we do that again?” Her chest was still heaving with pants.

  “My thoughts exactly.” I dove between her legs, anxious to get my fill of her.

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  Promise

  By Dani Wyatt

  PROLOGUE

  BECKETT

  {10 years old}

  “Dad –“

  My lungs feel like the flames have moved inside. I hand him my sister in her charcoal-smeared unicorn pajamas.

  “Why?” Dad’s voice is raw, his eyes full of hate. “Why didn’t you listen to me? I told you, I told you—” He buries his face into my sister’s tiny body only to raise his eyes and ask me the question I don’t want to answer. “Where is your mother? You didn’t even try, did you? You didn’t even try!” He scans the crowd, desperate, screaming at the men in yellow suits. “My wife’s in there! She’s still in there, please, please God, help her...someone...please.”

  I remember my science fair project is sitting on the kitchen table. I have to turn it in tomorrow. I need him to be proud of me.

  Last year, he helped me make an electromagnet — a super, duper one — and he tried to hide the tears when I won the blue ribbon for the best project out of every fourth grader in the Upper Cleveland School District.

  Two paramedics rush toward me.

  “Get him in the ambulance.” One of them yells as they grab at me, lifting me off my feet then strapping me down. “Call ahead to Children’s Hospital burn unit.”

  That was the day I realized the pain that comes from outside is nothing comparted to the pain that comes from inside. That was the day my childhood ended.

  Chapter One

  Beckett

  {Eight Years Later}

  ”Rent is due on the first. But you know there are alternative ways for you to pay.” Denise is more cougar than landlord.

  I know, because I fucking hear half the other tenants giving you their ‘rent’ through the paper thin walls. I don’t have that much experience with women, but I think I know enough to know that Denise is loud.

  Her dime store, blue eyeshadow and the ever present snapping piece of Wrigley's Spearmint are signatures of my landlord who has not stopped trying to seduce me since I moved in.

  She’s Mrs. Robinson with red hair and a tramp stamp.

  I’m unfortunately in the room next to hers and the sound of her bed denting the plaster wall must be heard in all seven bedrooms plus the kitchen of this makeshift boarding house on the low rent end of Cleveland’s ass.

  I mean, come on. All that noise is distracting as fuck. I have zero interest in her, but I can imagine if you were riding that ride all that fucking noise would be a boner killer.

  She’s sitting on my bed thinking that come-hither look might get her what she wants this month. Sorry champ, no can do.

  I can’t keep my eyes off the clock.

  7:41 AM.

  Wrap it up, Mrs. Robinson.

  “I’ll have the rent by tomorrow.” I take a step toward the bathroom hoping she will take the hint and get herself gone. I needed my ass in the shower five minutes ago when she let herself into my room in search of her ‘rent’.

  “You...” She points to me, making that single word sound like an accusation.

  Denise is propped up on my threadbare pillows, checking her manicure and snapping on a fresh piece of Wrigley’s. Her tits are motionless, silicone coconuts standing unnaturally high on her torso and half spilling out of her halter top.

  Personally, I prefer whatever size mother nature designed. I’ll take a double A true-blue over triple D fakery a
ny day.

  “You’re gonna get me in trouble, you know that? I shoulda never rented you this room.”

  A touch of her Brooklyn roots comes through.

  “How am I going to get you in trouble?” I put one hand on my forehead and one on my chin and jerk my head around. The twist and the pop pop pop as much a part of my morning routine as taking a piss.

  I blow out a breath, feeling the momentary pressure-release the neck cracking gives. I’ll do that twenty times today. I have to.

  “People talk. And, I don’t even want to know what Leon would do if he thought something was going on. If he found out, we’re both dead. That lady in that back bedroom looks like a bible thumper. She might stick her nose where it doesn’t belong.” Denise’s shrill voice rakes on my nerves. “Everyone sees me come in here.” Denise adjusts her tits and I do my best to not roll my eyes.

  “You come in here because you let yourself in here. That doesn’t mean shit. And there’s nothing to find out.” I’m tired of this game, I have places to be but I need to not get my ass evicted either.

  “Well, there’s talk. I hear them whispering. That’s just as good as it actually happening, so why don’t we just...” She pats a spot on my bed next to her. Now I’m going to have to change the sheets, no way I’m laying myself down where she’s been.

  I want to tell her if she didn’t howl like a fucking hyena on a fresh carcass everytime someone fucked her, maybe half the neighborhood wouldn’t know she lets half the male residents who rent rooms here know she’s getting boned twice a day and three times on Saturday.

  Why I don’t have a better sense of self-preservation, I’m not sure. I should have been an asshole to her right from the get go. I should have seen this coming. I think the only reason she rented me the room was because she had on cock-colored glasses when she saw me.

  But, if anything was going on, she’s right about Leon. He would probably kill me first, then kill her with my dead body.

  I step into the bathroom and turn on the shower, shutting the door as much as I can because this place is so old and crooked, the door won’t close all the way. But, her mention of her boyfriend leave me with an uneasy feeling.

  “You said Leon got picked up last night, right?” I have to yell over the rush of the shower as I stick my hand in to check the temperature. I drop my jeans which I’d slipped into when I got out of bed before Denise decided to make herself at home.

  The steam is hanging in clouds and beginning to mist the mirror that is cracked like an old road map. Whoever mounted it must have been on their knees or ten years old. All I can see in it is the bottom of the shiny, textured skin on my left shoulder and the cut of my abs... along with the shadows of my ribs.

  I need some groceries.

  I like this mirror. My face is not my best feature.

  I step into the shower trying to keep my thoughts about the day in check.

  “Yep, he got picked up at the Diablo’s. That biker bar on 2nd.” I hear her raising her voice and the squeak of the bed springs just when I lean back into the steaming water, squirting shampoo into my hand.

  Denise’s sharp voice makes me jump as she pokes her head around the shower curtain, her eyes shamelessly settling down below my waist with a wicked grin.

  Fucking crazy woman, get out. I’ve got real life happening today.

  “He’s in holding at county.” She glances up over my chest, avoiding my face, then back down. “Two warrants and he won’t see the judge ‘til Monday.” She’s snapping her gum, and each time she does it my neck twitches.

  “Do you mind?” She’s never pushed the limits this far and I would never hit a woman but I’m getting fucking pissed.

  My twitching is nothing new, but she’s not helping. Today isn’t just another day. It’s when a judge decides what I already know. That I am perfectly capable of taking care of myself without help from the State of Ohio.

  Don’t climb in here with me, please.

  I lay my head back into the stream of hot water and close my eyes. Luckily, when I look again, her face is gone.

  I throw on the one dress shirt I own and a worn pair of khakis. It’s the best I’ve got, and it’s been my standard uniform for the many days I’ve found myself visiting the fifth district court over the years.

  One swipe of my fingers through my hair and I’m ready. I can’t see myself in the damn mirror without bending down, but I’m sure I’m as presentable as need be. I grab my backpack, double check my files and sketchbook are inside, then deep breath, and I’m on my way. My hand is on the door, my mind already halfway down the street.

  “Do you even know how old I am?” I spin my head around to look at Denise sitting on the edge of the bed. .

  I grit my teeth until my jaw pops.

  “No.”

  Her eyes light on my face then dart away. I’m used to people looking away.

  “Well, I’m not telling you.” She flashes me what she thinks is a coy smile, but it comes off as sad. She stands up and takes a step toward me. “But, I’m not too old for you. I could teach you some things.”

  Jesus, whatever.

  I should tell her she’s beautiful. That’s what she wants. But, I’ve never told anyone that. My mother was beautiful, and I don’t just mean in the physical sense. No woman since has made me think of that word.

  “I’m leaving.” I should say something else.

  Something nice, less pragmatic. Something nice.

  She still won’t look at me, standing there with her silicone double D’s.

  “Bye.” She chirps going for cute, and I don’t miss her added eyeroll.

  She knows where I’m going, what I have to do today, and she’s pouting?

  I let out the breath I’ve been holding.

  My neck is aching, and I can’t stop the urge to twist and jerk my head three more times as I pull the door shut behind me.

  Half a step down the hall leaving her in my room, but I don’t have shit to steal, so what do I care.

  “Hey.” Denise’s voice is softer.

  I turn and see her cross her arms over her half covered tits. Her bedroom is on the first floor, and this hallway has three other rented bedrooms besides mine.

  “Good luck today.” She forces herself to look me in the eyes. I can see her counting silently, trying to maintain eye contact a few seconds longer than makes her comfortable. What is it about looking at someone’s face that isn’t like all the others that makes human’s so uncomfortable?

  “Thanks,” I say.

  She looks down at the floor after a few seconds, and I make my way toward the back door.

  At the end of the hall, I’m already wondering who I’ll be at the end of the day. Will I feel different? Will there be any relief?

  “I could fall in love with you, you know.” Her voice knocks me in the back of the head.

  Oh, hell no.

  I’m not turning around for that. Not now. Not today.

  ~~~~~~

  It is ironic that on a day like today when something big is about to happen, I notice more of the small things.

  Dimitri that works the metal detector didn’t shave this morning.

  I toss my wallet, keys, and cell phone in the little plastic tray. No one needs to tell me what to do.

  I also know exactly how much money I have in my wallet. Exactly zero.

  Dimitri gives me a full nod with eye contact this morning.

  Even he knows.

  We’ve never exchanged much more than a few words here and there over the years. Today, I see something else in the movement of his head, the way he takes a deeper breath as I pass.

  I fucking hate pity.

  I step through the X-ray archway.

  With any luck, when I walk out of here, I’ll be legit. On my own, according to the great State of Ohio.

  Not that I haven’t been on my own for a long freakin’ time already. But, according to the law, I still need supervision. That shit is hilarious.

  I grab m
y wallet and keys after I’m cleared through the metal detector when I look down and see the dark gray, flattened spot of someone’s discarded gum on the marble floor.

  What kind of asshole does that?

  I guess some asshole that might not like the way things are going for them. This place is ripe with people who think they’re getting the shitty end of the stick. Most of them sharpened the damn stick themselves and went about doing as much damage with it as they could. Then, they’re surprised when their lives turn into an episode of Cops.

  You need a license for almost anything, right?

  Want to drive? Well, you need to take a class, then a test, and then you have to abide by a fuck-ton of rules, or they will snatch that precious piece of freedom from you.

  You want a dog? Get a license.

  You want to burn leaves in the fall? You need a permit.

  You want to start a business? Get a shit-ton of licenses, permits, and forms.

  You wanna have a kid? Do your thing, nothing else required.

  All along the top of the hallway ahead of me, there are slanted white streaks of dusty sunlight filtering through elevated windows. I’ve made this trek so many times.

  I see the wide eyes and pinched brows on the people I pass. There is an overwhelming stink of old cigarette smoke when I walk by a forty-something lady with a worn, thick manila envelope clutched in her hand.

  It’s not enough that none of the damn windows open in this catacomb of limestone and marble. You add in too many humans and not enough soap, stir that up with lawyers and the sharp scent of whatever they use to polish the floors, and my stomach is ready to reveal my breakfast.

  My boots make a thunk-scrape sound with each step. Thunk-scrape, thunk-scrape.

  I dip my right shoulder and put more weight on the right step than the left. For some reason, today I notice the uneven cadence.

  Miriam at the information desk has a line of irritated people in front of her, yet she still manages to catch my eye, and I wink.