THE STRAGGLERS Book 2 OWN

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THE STRAGGLERS Book 2 OWN Page 8

by Misha Anderson


  “My bad, Gary, I was distracted.”

  Gary stop practice telling the boy to hit the shower early, he got a mouthguard out of his pocket, put on a head guard, and hit me the first blow, almost throwing me on the canvas with a left hook.

  I teased him getting laughs from both of us.

  “I’ll take it easy with you, because of Helena, I don’t want her calling me and saying I was mistreating old people, but since you want to take a beating today, let’s see what you have for me, old man.”

  I got a cross right punch and if I wasn’t very fast, Mad Gary would have gotten an embarrassing rear naked choke.

  But I turned the tables and when we finished, we were both laughing like two hienas, exhausted, on the floor. And because he was always a bad loser, Mad Gary only let me get off the ring after promising a rematch.

  Old suicidal man, son of a bitch, I deny it till death, but the truth is that during the time I was out of the ring, I really missed that nagging mother fucker.

  Fuck it! I’m already apprehensive, I sent more than ten text messages to Maggie and not even a sing of my baby. I called the clinic and Tiffany told me she had left and went home.

  Did I do anything to upset her! It’s all fault of my neediness, Lupita always tells me that women like man that play a hard game, that despise them... But I can’t say one thing and feel different one. I can’t cause pain, the look of reject humiliation in any woman’s eye, specially Maggie, who’s mine! I’m a sentimentalist objective guy, of course. if i want a woman and she also wants me, there’s nothing to think about. I hate foolish power play games, of over powering the other one, unnecessarily and stupidly showing off.

  What I want, I take it, I have it, it’s simpler this way!

  If I like it, then is too much... I hate the neediness of a hug, a kiss, of tenderness. If it’s to love, then I feel way much, if I give up, get out of my face, I don’t want you to get near me.

  Why do I have to pretend I don’t want Maggie, that I’m not hers, if I count the minutes to be with her?

  Did she fell sorry for me almost killing that posh guy? Fred, her ex fiancé?

  I’m going to do what Adam always tells me to do, I’m going to give her space, the privacy she needs.

  I called a bunch of times and she ignores me, it’s best to give her time to get her life together, to decide who she wants to be with.

  Ah! Fuck, I shouldn’t have come here, I’ll watch from a far, see if Maggie is really home, Tiffany might have made a mistake.

  What the fuck is this car doing parked on her garage?

  I step off the motorcycle and march towards Maggie’s door, insane, imagining his dirty hands on Maggie.

  When I’m ready to knock on the door, I hear her complaining with someone.

  “I just wanted to find out what made you get out of you political appointments to see me, what an honor.”

  And the man’s deep and strong voice answered, bringing hell inside me.

  “Is that the way you treat me after all this time without seeing me, come here give me a kiss, my little precious.”

  I see red in front of me, my fists knock on the door and a few more blows and I’m almost knocking it down. I don’t recognize my voice anymore, it’s a guttural sound and animal like, that yells Maggie’s name, like a war chant.

  Slowly the doors open and a good looking tall middle aged white man appears behind a pale Maggie, hugging her shoulder in a possessive atitude snuggling up my girl. I wouldn’t like to see my face right now, the beast transforms inside me, and I’m losing the fight. Even though I can smell sour from both of them, and without touching a hair on that damned man, I can salivate for his taste in my mouth. In a sound bordering inhuman, wild, I yell:

  “Maggie, who’s this guy?”

  Maggie looks at me stunned, scared, I can’t hurt him in front of her, I can’t stand her look of fear, of horror, I would never hurt her, even now, with my eyes burning and my throat is dry in pain, from an appalling betrayal, even though that, I would never hurt her.

  I hear her screaming my name so I could return, but I turn my back and get on the bike, flying through Portland streets over 60 miles an hour.

  The images go through my head really fast, blurred through my helmet visor and tears, so I can’t see much, I fell even less, I get off the bike at the my bar door and it’s closing. Lupita closed earlier, I try to open the door twice and the key gets in the way in my hands, if I was less of a weird guy, less clumsy, I wouldn’t lose her to a little office asshole, the only woman I was able to love in life.

  I enter roaring and lean on the door. I wander by the pool table, I put Beyonce on the jukebox talking about hurt love, Me, myself and I.

  Fuck if it’s a woman singing, I know it’s chick music, that how I feel, like a little girl crying because of the disappointment of the first love.

  I sit on the stool, from the other side of the counter, I get a bottle of whiskey, one of gin and tequila, three bottles stare open at me.

  Inviting me to taste them, it would only be a sip, only a sip to anesthetize the pain pounding my chest, meager and purging like a exposed nerve.

  Whiskey, tequila and gin, and everything would be so easy, I get a glass and the bottles incite me to turn them and only stop when they are empty. It in the bottom of an empty bottle that sometimes a fool man finds answers to his hardest questions.

  But I then remember the deception look on Adam, Connie and Kayden’s face when I used to get drunk, when I wasn’t but a piece of inert meat, ridiculous, loser.

  The door opens and Maggie stared at me panting, my wolf is at the surface, at the edge ready to break the barriers of my conscience, that’s why I can smell the sharp and rancid smell of her pain, her sadness.

  Sad why? If I was the one dumped like unwanted trash?

  She comes towards me and grab the bottle of whiskey, then the gin, and finally the tequila one, throwing them on the sink.

  I can’t face her, I’m embarrassed with my face washed with tears, I lower my head not to look into her eyes and Maggie raises my chin, elevating a finger so I won’t talk, saying:

  “Hunter, that man in my house was my father, what the hell were you thinking getting out of the house like that?”

  My eyes are wide open before I can control myself, I open my mouth and then I close it, without knowing what to say. My voice gets out in a whisper.

  “Maggie, Maggie.”

  And my chest beats out of measure when my baby throws herself in my arms and wraps her legs around my waist, pulling my hair back, facing me.

  “Shut up, Big Guy!!! Just kiss me.”

  And like an obedient boy, I bring Maggie’s body to mine and I kiss her so many times that I climb the sky through her mouth, I loose myself in her taste mixing our salivas, the sweet warmth of her lips on mine.

  Maggie releases her grip slowly, still keeping her arms around my neck and I still have my hands on her waist, like instinct, I wanted her to stay with me, that she wouldn’t not run when facing my uncontrollable side.

  She gets her hand on my hair and pulls my head back, to I could face her and surprisingly she licks my face wet with tricky tears that I let escape before she came in.

  Like a feline cleaning its offspring wounds, Maggie slowly licks my cheeks and my mouth, then she opens her lips and kisses with out hurry, smoothy, mixing the taste of her sweet lips with the salty taste of my tears.

  “Shhh... it’s over, Big Guy, I’m here, your Maggie is here.”

  She bites and pulls my lower lip and that little bite of pain and possession makes my cock pulsate in desire. Sticking her hand under my shirt, Maggie smiles and teases me.

  “That bite was because you made me worry disappearing from my house in that manner, what were you thinking, Hunter? That I’m the kind of woman that drags charming old man home? I’m a woman of one man only, and the only guy that makes me shiver is this big fighter, really jealous, with a piercing on a delicious place that gets moans out me.�


  “Delicious place, where is it?”

  MAGGIE

  I lower my hand to his groin and caress his stiff member, through his jeans.

  “If you open my pants, I may even be able to show you.”

  I gave him distance just to enjoy the spectacle, to tease me Hunter opens his pants slowly and lower his pants and the underwear to the middle of his thick thighs, freeing his huge penis, like a burning arrow, going over his belly button. With his narrow eyes he pointed his finger and signaled me calling me, and I went...

  I got near and when I raised my hand to caress him, he shock his head.

  “No, baby, tonight we’ll do it my way.”

  I looked at him and to his member harder and harder.

  “And how do you want it?”

  “No touching, at least not now, get down, my beautiful.”

  I knelt in front of him, the ostentatious penis at my mouth reach, I licked my lips, barely containing myself wanting to get it in my mouth, longing to have his cock’s taste in my mouth.

  Our eyes met and he held my chin, brushing his member on my lips, teasing me.

  “Open your mouth, my baby.”

  As I opened my mouth, he held his penis and smoothy slid it between my lips, slowly. I tried to suck it all, but he only let me take it half of his member, caressing my checks and my chin with the tip of his fingers, while he penetrated my mouth.

  “Slowly and only what I give you, my piecing can make you choke, my baby.”

  I took it as much as I could, closing my eyes to absorb the feeling of his stiff smooth flesh sliding on my tongue, filling my mouth and licking the veins of his member, till the dripping glande announcing the pleasure.

  Passing his fingers on my pussy and my lips, he got his hands down a bit more, caressing my nape and my shoulder, swiping with his hands by round breast, freeing them from the cleavage and the bra.

  Hunter involved my breast, fitting them perfectly on the palm of his hands, and with the increase of intensity of my sucking him, he tormented my nipples, pinching them smoothly with the tip of his fingers, pulling them slowly, making them harder and harder.

  Hunter knows how much my breasts are sensible to each caress and pinch in my nipples, makes my pussy pulsing even more. I rub my thighs searching for some kind of friction to relief my clitoris, the pulsation deep in my vagina. Seeing my wriggle with the inhumane feeling of his caresses and from the taste of his cock in my mouth, he looks me in the eyes and orders me:

  “Pull your panties to the side and be good, Maggie, take your hand to your warm little pussy and caress it, my fingers are your fingers.”

  I raised my hand to my sex and did as he told me to, and in the exact way I need it.

  My fingers slide between my lips and then increasing that mad agony, I introduced two fingers deep in my vagina, inside and out, sucking insatiably his delicious penis, his thighs shaking with pleasure I try to stall but I’m not strong, I’m close, closer each time, my vagina is pulsing like mad in every smooth stroke and every time he pulls my nipples.

  Hunter suddenly got me off the floor and took me to the pool table, turning me on my back.

  With his knees he opened my legs, one arm around my shoulders and the other on my waist, immobilizing me.

  But even though I’m immobilized, vulnerable, I never felt more empowered, from my man’s pleasure, fearless, because I know that in his strong and protective arms I only find comfort, love and pleasure.

  Whispering and nibbling my ear, he says everything I wanted to hear.

  “I know you want it... what we both want, and I’m giving it to you, baby.”

  Slowly Hunter penetrated me and I let a moan out, hoarse, surprisingly cuming right after. To each thrust in my vagina, longer and deeper, I came again, screaming the name of my man, my legs shaking and soft like spaghetti.

  We both had a hard time breathing, panting deeply.

  And when I thought I couldn’t stand it anymore, that I couldn’t cum again, he suspended one of my legs and buried himself in me, hammering stronger and longer, tormenting my clitoris with two fingers.

  Grinding and roaring stuck to my nape, Hunter came flooding me of thick semen and made me cum again, ripping me a part, with thighs filed with honey.

  ‘My, my Maggie.”

  “Yours Hunter, just yours, my Big Guy.”

  We got up to Hunter’s improvised apartment after it and he showered me.

  Drying my hair, he asked me:

  “You are hungry, aren’t you, baby?”

  I hugged his waist and nodded, no modesty.

  “I’m starving, love.”

  Hunter stopped drying my hair, and faced me serious.

  “Say it again.”

  I repeated what I had said, kissing the palm of his hand.

  “I’m starving.”

  He shock his head, getting me by the waist.

  “No, the other part.”

  “Love, my jealous boy, my Big Guy.”

  Hunter put me sitting at the kitchen counter while he made pasta. When finishing the bolognese sauce, he asked:

  “What did your dad want, baby?”

  Eating a piece of salame, I answered him more tense then I thought to be.

  “The usual, unpleasant subjects.”

  Hunter insisted without looking at me.

  “What unpleasant subjects this time?”

  I remained in silence, he kept stirring the sauce.

  “Unpleasant like Fred?”

  “Something like that, to forgive him, to consider politically his own favors to Fred, that I embarrassed him and I shamed him by leaving him before Boston convention. He asked me about you, he wanted to know about the thug I’m dating who almost killed Fred.”

  He cleared his throat once and again, from Hunter’s mouth I didn’t hear a sound. Until he burnt a finger on the hot pot, damn it!

  I got off the counter and went to the stove, I took hinds and and raised his finger to my mouth, sucking his burnt finger.

  He was staring at my lips licking his finger, then a bitter sigh, he kissed me so intensely, almost taking my sanity away. With his mouth still on mine, he asked:

  “Should I worry about your father’s opinion about me? With his request for you to take Fred back?”

  I shook my head and was on the tip of my toes to bite his chin, rubbing his five o’clock shadow beard on my cheek.

  “No, what my father thinks of you doesn’t change how I feel, Fred died to me, Hunter.”

  “If he touches you, I’ll destroy him, Maggie.”

  I snuggle myself on his chest, shaking my head.

  “Don’t say a thing like that, Hunter.”

  “I hope he doesn’t dare trying something with you, hurting you that way, the next time he may not have the same luck of getting out alive, like the had now.

  Sitting at the private Hilton Hotel in Chicago, I get a message on my iPhone, I see that’s it’s from Geffrey, it must be news about the thug Maggie is rubbing herself against.

  My sources tell me that his name is Hunter Vaugh, he is a fighter suspended from UFC, is living in Portland a year, the guy has been in a bunch of mess ups, he has a police record, it’s going to be easier than I thought, we just have to show Maggie how much of an unstable loser he is, and she’ll come running to you, just be careful, from what I hear, he’s kind of a dangerous guy.

  I answer taking a long sip of my whiskey.

  Now that I know who I’m dealing with, I won’t be caught off guard anymore, another step out of the line and he won’t even know where the bullet in his head came from, thank you, Geffrey, I count on your loyalty, do you know anything from Maggie’s land, were you able to convince her to sell it to you?

  Geffrey denied it, up set.

  I wasn’t able to, but I won’t rest while I can’t convince her to sell it to me, I need to settle this before she suspects anything.

  I ended the conversation, concluding.

  I trust your persuasion powe
rs, for that we have to take that guy off the way, he can get in the way of our plans, see you soon, Geffrey.

  CHAPTER 8

  MAGGIE

  I think I can get really spoiled waking up with this wall of a man stuck to my back. Hunter is moving agitated, like if he was stuck in some kind of nightmare, he hugs me tight, almost to the point if suffocating me and he moans disconnected words.

  “Don’t be afraid, baby, no, don’t, stay!”

  I try to squirm free of his grip and I turn to face him, Hunter waked up sweating, still trying to find himself in his own bedroom. I caress his cheeks, and he looks scared at me, it must have been a horrible nightmare. I ask him what he dreamt abut.

  Hunter looks me still rubbing his eyes and then I looks away embarrassed.

  “I can’t remember.”

  Of course he remembers, he even talked about me in his dream, why would I be afraid if I love him so much?

  “You do remember, what it was, Big Guy?”

  I turn my body and mount him, spreading my legs on his thighs.

  “What it was so bad, Hunt?”

  He sinks his finger on my hips and pulls me to kiss him, I let my body stay by his calming him down.

  “You were running away from me, that’s what I dreamt.”

  I was in a violent fight, till I looked towards the audience and Maggie’s father was sitting by her side, on her other side was Fred, they were screaming at me that it was no use for me to fight over that, that Maggie now knew I was a drunk and a beast, a horrible beast, and that she would never accept being with a disgusting wolf, I would leave the octagon and Maggie tried to escape, running down the street, till I was able to reach her, but she would draw back on the floor, in panic, begging for her life, asking me not to hurt her, dream from hell, I sugarcoat it and tell her what I dreamt, omitting the part she found out I was a wolf.

  “I dreamt your father was saying you wouldn’t be with me and you were running from me, scared, it’s not a big deal, baby, it’s a shitty silly dream.”

 

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