He twisted back and forth “What…”
Lost in the satisfaction of having his big dick in my mouth, I didn’t realize what I was doing was waking him.
I stopped and held still.
Eventually, he went back to sleep.
So, I started sucking again.
I slid my mouth up and down his thick shaft, pressing the tip into my throat with each full stroke. With his entire cock and balls covered in my saliva, I found it fascinating that he continued to sleep.
In no time, I was aroused beyond compare.
I pushed my fingertip past my wet lips, and continued until it was as deep as I could force it.
Then, I added another.
I was soaked. In and out I worked my fingers while I slowly sucked his throbbing dick.
I added another finger.
My fingers were small, but the third drove me wild. I couldn’t take it any longer. I carefully lifted my mouth from his shaft.
I fumbled to straddle him, hoping I could somehow fuck him as he slept. Before I lowered myself onto the tip, he coughed.
“What…what are…Alexandra?”
I steadied myself. “Uh huh?”
“What are you doing?” he asked, his voice coarse and dry.
“Loving you,” I said.
“I’m loving you, too. What. What uhhm. What time is it?”
I reached for his cock. “Does it matter?”
“Guess not.”
I guided the tip in, gasping as it penetrated me. After working my hips back and forth for a few seconds, I had enough of him inside of me to pause for a moment.
“Are you ready?” I asked.
He inhaled a deep breath, grasped my shoulders firmly in his hands, and in one swift motion, rolled me onto my back.
“Adam,” I gasped. “You’re going to hurt yourself.”
“You worry about you,” he said. “And let me worry about me.”
“Okay.”
I felt pressure from him slightly penetrating me, and then it stopped.
“The question you need to ask yourself is this, my dear,” he said. “Are you ready?”
On my back, and gazing up at his shadowy silhouette, I responded. “I think so.”
Upon receiving my verbal nod of approval, he slowly forced himself into me.
Entirely.
I gulped a breath. Before I could mentally – or physically – prepare for anything more, he withdrew his hips, extracting himself from me completely.
I exhaled and then took another quick breath.
Without warning, he shoved himself into me fully, causing all the air to shoot from my lungs.
With his cock buried deep inside of me, he swept my hair away from my face and then kissed me. The kiss was sensual and aggressive, lasting for several satisfying minutes.
When our lips eventually parted, I was a mess of sexual emotion.
“Okay, now I’m ready,” he said. “And, I’m going to show you what fucking is all about.”
I didn’t realize we were in a fuck contest, but it sure sounded fun. Just to make sure he gave me his all, I offered a little nudge.
I reached to the side, grabbed a pillow in each hand, and squeezed them tight in preparation of what was sure to come.
“Bring it, you crippled old man,” I said, trying not to laugh.
It was like I’d released a rodeo bull from the gate.
The tips of his fingers dug deep into the flesh of my ass, and he began to fuck me without reservation, or much mercy.
It was wonderful.
With each stroke, I huffed a breath, trying my best to stay in rhythm with his forceful thrusts.
“Too much cock for you?” he asked.
My response came past my lips like a shot. “Excuse me?”
He pulled his hips back, paused, and then slammed it in balls-deep. “Is my cock too big?”
I exhaled. “No.”
He withdrew himself until the tip was tickling my throbbing clit.
“Are you sure?”
I gripped the pillows firmly. “Positive.”
He thrust his hips forward with so much force that it drove the air from my lungs.
“Sure?” he asked.
“Actually,” I said. “I wish it was a little bigger. But I’ll see if you can make up for it in form and stamina.”
Adam had a temper – and a competitive side – and on that morning, I found out how to push his buttons. He fucked me like he needed to prove a point, and prove a point he did.
When he finally decided I’d had enough, he allowed himself to reach climax. At the time, I was flat on my back, exhausted, and giving no more verbal resistance.
“I’m going to come all over you,” he said.
I’d already had more orgasms than I could count. “Do it,” I breathed. “Cover me.”
He pulled himself from inside of me and began to stroke his cock over my stomach. With the early morning sun seeping in through the windows, I watched eagerly.
His back arched, his muscular torso tightened, and he bellowed out into the room.
The come shot from the tip of his dick in spurts, covering my stomach, tits, and neck in its wet warmth.
Seeing him come so violently was a huge turn-on, and a great finale for our sex-filled night.
After the last drop escaped him, he let out a breath.
I gazed at the cum, and then at him. “That was hot.”
He flexed his bicep. “Not bad for a crippled old man, huh?”
“Not bad at all,” I said with a smile.
Chapter One Hundred Thirteen
Cholo
I pulled into the shop and parked the bike about twenty feet from the bench where they were gathered. After I pulled on my hat, Crip gave me a nod.
“You look like the cat that ate the fucking canary,” he said. “What gives?”
I got off the bike, steadied myself, and shrugged. “Just in a good mood.”
He glanced at Pee Bee and Smokey, and eventually looked at me again, grinning as he did so. “Well, maybe here in a minute you’ll be in a better one.”
“Why’s that?” I asked.
“Had a meeting last night.”
“Who had a meeting last night?”
“The club.”
I shot him a confused look. “Didn’t hear about no fucking meeting.”
He chuckled. “Hope not. You weren’t invited.”
I wondered what in the fuck the club needed to meet about that didn’t involve me, and grew so angry I had to turn away. After walking half the distance to my bike, I turned around.
“What? I don’t give enough? I got strapped to a table and burned with a fucking blow torch, motherfucker,” I said through my teeth. “And, I didn’t say one fucking word. Not one. Cock sucker took a pair of pliers and ripped my teeth out until I damned near bled to death. Did he get anything out of me?”
He didn’t respond.
“Fuck no, he didn’t,” I growled.
He turned around and walked toward the work bench.
“Don’t walk away from me when I’m fucking mad, Crip. What was the fucking meeting about?”
He turned around, and tossed a black duffel bag at my feet. It landed with a heavy thud.
“It was about that,” he said, motioning toward the duffel bag.
I looked at it, and then at him. “What is it?”
“It’s a couple Calle 18 heads. We killed a few more of ‘em last night. I put their heads in that bag. Open it up.”
Reluctantly I reached for the bag’s zipper. After taking a deep breath, I pulled it open. Stacks of banded money filled the bag to the top. My eyes slowly widened.
“Holy shit,” I said. “How much is it?”
“That? That’s part of it. After what I got from Lefty’s and what Tree Top got from the other place, we had quite a bit.”
I took another look, and then zipped the bag. After checking over each shoulder I attempted to kick the bag toward him, but failed miserably
, almost falling on my ass in the process.
“So, what was the meeting about?” I asked, feeling like I got an incomplete answer the first time.
“Trying to decide what to do with the money,” he said.
I nodded. “And why wasn’t I here?”
“I needed to get answers without you mean-mugging the fellas into submission.”
I envisioned a new shop with lifts, a paint booth, and a soda machine that was filled with beer.
“What did they say?”
“Hell, I would have settled for 51%,” he said. “But the club voted, and it was unanimous.”
“What’d they decide?”
“Decided that bag in front of you is yours, Brother.”
My heart raced, but I knew it was a joke. There had to be well over a hundred grand in the bag. That amount of money would get me so close to buying a house I could taste it.
“What’d they really decide?” I asked.
Pee Bee cleared his throat. “Club voted, Cholo. Decided the men who took the risks get the reward. Men who risked it in this was the eleven that went and got those girls out, and then me and Crip coming to get you, and then all of us going to Lefty’s shop. That’s what they decided. That’s your cut.”
I looked at Crip. “Seriously?”
He nodded. “It’s yours, Brother. Can’t argue with a unanimous vote.”
He was right. The bylaws were clear.
But, I had to know.
“How. How uhhm. How much is it?”
“Your cut?” he asked.
I nodded.
“That’s $980,000, give or take. We were here half the fucking night counting it.”
It didn’t make sense. I looked at the bag, and then at each of them.
“Was about $1,200,000 total. Man who risked the most got paid the most. Each of us got $20,000. There’s eleven of us.” He walked toward me. When he reached me, he patted me on the shoulder. “And Brother, there’s only one of you. Appreciate ya, Cholo. You’re one tough son-of-a-filthy-fucking-bitch.”
My heart was in my throat. I swallowed hard, looked down at the bag, and held my gaze. I couldn’t look up. I’d been through way too much, and the emotion was getting to me.
“It’s…It’s uhhm. That’s mine? No shit?”
He patted me on the shoulder again. “Sure is. Keep it somewhere safe and spend it wisely.”
I pressed my tongue against the roof of my mouth and nodded. “I’ll do it, Brother.”
“I’ll help you get it loaded up,” he said.
I followed him to my bike, and finally overcame my emotions enough to speak.
“I uhhm. I’d like to. I’d like to give some of it to those fellas that came and saved me, Brother? The other guys.”
He barked out a laugh. “My brothers from another mother?”
I nodded. I owed my life to them, that much was sure.
He shook his head. “They don’t do it for money, or for fame,” he said. “They do it for the same reason we do. For the brotherhood.”
“But…”
He shook his head. “We’ll all go out and have a beer, how’s that?”
As he split up the money and loaded equal amounts into each saddlebag, I nodded. To understand the level of commitment those men had, all I needed to do was look in the mirror.
I had gained enough self-worth to know the man looking back at me was one exceptional human being.
Chapter One Hundred Fourteen
Lex
I leaned forward and rested my chin against his right shoulder. “Where are we going, again??”
He tilted his head back. “South Oceanside.”
“To bid a remodel?”
“Something like that,” he said.
I relaxed against the backrest and let the wind clear my mind of everything but the feeling of flying.
In no time, we were off the highway and rolling slowly through one of the city’s fancy neighborhoods.
“This is nice,” I said.
“Not bad.”
A black Mercedes-Benz was parked in the driveway of a home in the middle of the block. In the yard was a realtor’s sign announced it was for sale.
I imagined what it would be like to live in such a neighborhood.
Adam pulled in behind the Mercedes and parked.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“We’re going in to look at it.”
“To do some work?”
He nodded. “Long story. Bank foreclosure. Previous owner lost his job, and when they foreclosed on it, he got mad and tore the inside all to hell. It needs a lot of work.”
The home was a two-story with a three-car garage. The yard was landscaped beautifully, and had grass in it, which was something the homes in the other side of town didn’t have. I looked at the tall palms, got off the bike, and raked my toes through the grass.
“It’s got grass,” I said.
“Nice, huh? he asked.
“I love how it smells.”
He motioned toward the house. “C’mon.”
I followed him inside.
A man dressed in a black suit met us at the door. “Mr. Downey?”
“I’m Adam. This is Alexandra.”
The man shook each of our hands. “Greyson Winslow. I’ll show you around.”
Adam was right. The home had been damaged by the previous owner, but what remained allowed me to imagine the entire home free of fault without giving it much thought.
The windows in the back of the home had a view of the ocean. I hadn’t realized we were so close to the beach when we pulled in the neighborhood.
I stood at the windows and gazed out at the sea and imagined what it would be like to live in such a place.
There wouldn’t be any reason to ever leave.
A person could walk to the beach.
Or, make love in the living room while they watched the waves crashing against the sand. As Adam inspected for needed repairs, I stood and stared out at the sea.
And dreamed.
“What about the pool? Adam asked, bringing me out of my semi-conscious state. “Is it damaged? The pump? Filtration system?”
It has a pool?
I looked at him and then the realtor.
“No,” Mr. Winslow responded. “Oddly enough it’s working fine.”
Adam nodded. “Based on what I’ve seen, it needs $300,000 worth of work, and that’s conservative.”
“The bank has bids that range from $450,000 to $350,000,” Mr. Winslow said. “I’ll agree with that figure.”
Adam motioned toward the stairway. “Can you give us a few?”
Winslow nodded. “Take your time.”
We walked up the stairs, surveyed the master bedroom, and then Adam spent quite some time looking at the damage in the bathroom while I stared out at the ocean from my new vantage point.
He walked into the room and sighed. “Pretty rough.”
“It sure will be nice when it’s fixed,” I said. “How long will it take to fix it?”
He shrugged. “Six weeks with the right crew. Maybe five.”
“If you get the bid, when you’re fixing it, I want to come bone in here,” I whispered. “I’d love to suck your cock while I listened to the ocean.”
“You like it?” he asked.
“Pfft. What’s not to like. This place is awesome.”
He arched an eyebrow. “How awesome?”
“If it was fixed?”
He nodded. “Yeah.”
“Let’s just say I’d love to come back here when it’s done and have a night with you. Just one.”
“Just one?”
“As many we could get before they kicked us out,” I said.
He nodded. “Alright. I’ll give my bid.”
I gazed out the window, took one last look at the ocean, and smiled. The odds of coming back were minimal, and I knew it.
“You ready?” he asked.
I wasn’t, but I said I was. “Yeah.”
; We walked down the steps and I realized Adam’s foot was getting a little bit better each day.
Heck, one day, we’d both be normal.
“I’ll be in touch,” Adam said as we reached the bottom of the steps. He shook Mr. Winslow’s hand.
“Good luck,” Winslow said. “The results will post on the 13th.”
Adam nodded. “Thanks, again.”
As we walked to the motorcycle, I took one last look.
Because it was nice to dream.
Chapter One Hundred Fifteen
Cholo
I sat on the back deck as Mr. Bale practiced putting on his personal putting green. Beyond him, as far as I could see, was nothing but ocean. I took a drink of tea, looked at Downes, and then glanced at Parker.
After I swallowed, the flavor of the tea came to life. “That tea is something,” I said. “Wow.”
“Peach, today,” Downes said. “One of the late Mr. Ward’s favorites.”
“The former owner?”
He nodded.
Mr. Bale looked down, focused on the head of the putter, and then swung it smoothly. The ball rolled to the other side of the green, paused slightly, and then rolled to the left a few and fell in the cup.
Mr. Bale looked at me. “The game of golf, Mr. Downey, is lost or won right here.”
“On the green?” I asked.
He nodded. “Everyone gets on the green in two or three strokes, and they’ll four putt their way into a loss. I have vowed not to step onto another course for as much as a glass of tea until I’m capable of a sub-par round at Torrey Pines’ south course.”
Torrey Pines was a world-renowned course in La Jolla that overlooked the ocean. “Do you think you’re ready?”
He nodded. “I do.”
He walked up the steps, onto the deck, and sat down at my side. “Downes said you have a proposition.”
“I do.”
He took a sip of tea. “I’m ready to hear it.”
“Before you respond, know either way, there’ll be no hard feelings,” I said.
“Nor will there be on this end,” he said. “I can assure you.”
I wished it was that easy. It never was. But, if Mr. Bale inherited as much money as he said he had, doing what I was about to ask him would be rather easy for him. There was a risk, but it was minimal for him.
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