Pistol

by Max Henry

  She leant over so her lips barely missed the rim of his ear as she spoke. “Wake up, Sir.”

  He groaned, and rolled to his back beneath her. Steph straightened, and watched, eager for some response. When he failed to move again, or open his eyes, she leant over and feathered soft kisses along his jaw, and finally onto his full lips. “Wake up, Sir,” she repeated.

  He shuddered a sigh, and tucked his hands behind his head. “Morning, Love.” His eyes remained shut.

  “How did you sleep?”

  “Good enough.” A smirk spread to the corners of his mouth.

  “Anything I can do to make your morning perfect ... Sir?”

  He moaned low in the back of his throat. “Plenty.”

  “Name it.”

  His right hand shot out from under the pillow, and flicked the sheets off his body. “Ya can do somethin’ with this,” he said.

  Steph’s gaze raked his inked physique, and stopped at the rock hard member in his boxers. Oh? Okay. She reached out and managed a single stroke before his hand pinned hers to a stop.

  “Let’s call this a game of soccer—no hands allowed.”

  She smiled, and drew her hand away. “How am I supposed to get inside your boxers, Sir?”

  “You’re a clever girl now, aren’t you? I’m sure ya can think of somethin’.”

  Steph drew her lip between her teeth, and contemplated the obvious options. Not sure she could trust herself, she pushed her hands between the mattress and the base as she moved closer. She glanced up, but his eyes were still closed, the smirk in place. Her arms braced her weight as she slowly levered herself over his body. With the care of a mother to her young pups, she gently bit the fabric of his boxers, and pulled it up, and over his erection.

  Warm flesh sprung back as he fell from the confines of the cotton, and her centre warmed at the sight of a bead of pre-cum which glistened on his tip. You are the reason for his arousal, girl. Don’t forget it. Steph licked the engorged flesh, and elicited a groan from Pete as he bucked his hips to meet her. “Sshhh,” she warned. “Cass is still here.”

  “What do I care?” he growled. “And besides, who said ya could speak. Get back to work.”

  Steph gaped at him as he lay still, and waited on her next move. What equally shocked her was the fact a warm moistness built between her thighs. What the fuck is wrong with you? He talks to you like you’re trash, and you get hotter? You’re certifiable.

  She angled her head for the best result, and enveloped his length in her mouth. Steph pushed as far as she could before the gag reflex set in. Her tongue swirled about him, and she could feel each of the ridges as she pulled back then went down for a second deep throat. Pete growled below her, his hands now fisted in the sheet—eyes still shut. His want tasted salty on the tip of her tongue as she wet her lips for the next descent. She drew her mouth tight, and created a vacuum as she pulled back—Pete desperately pushed upwards with his hips to keep himself in her mouth as long as possible.

  “Fuck, Love. That feels amazin’.”

  Steph grinned around her mouthful, still happy she could pull more groans from him as she increased pace. Her fingers itched with the need to grasp him in her palm, but he had said no. So no it would be. Steph let out a startled whimper when Pete’s hands clamped down on either side of her head. He drove himself into her hard, and doubled the rhythm with what seemed to be minimal effort. In his haste, he occasionally pushed too far which caused her to gag. Steph’s throat closed about him each time, and any panic she had at the intrusion dissipated with the contented moans Pete let loose each time it happened.

  “Stop,” he urged, and dropped his hands. “Get up here and spread yer legs.”

  Steph swiped at her mouth with the back of her hand as she stood. She climbed over where he lay, and he beckoned her to hurry. Pete tugged the hem of her over-sized tee out of the way. His hand circled the base of his solid erection to position himself with her, and as Steph began to lower herself onto him the door to her room opened.

  “Look Steph, I’m sorry. It’s not my place to ... what the fuck!” Cass clamped a hand over her mouth, and rapidly backtracked into the lounge.

  “Shit,” Steph scrambled off a chuckling Pete. “It’s not funny,” she scolded as she swatted at his chest.

  He drew his arms up in self-defence, which made him laugh harder at her distress.

  “Cass, wait,” she called. Steph caught up to her as Cass snatched her bag from the coffee table.

  The blonde spun around with a fury in her eyes that Steph had never seen. “What the fuck is that? Huh? Not seeing him, my ass!”

  “Hold on,” Steph lifted her hands. “I know I should have told you he was here—“

  “Damn straight!”

  “—but, I knew you wouldn’t be happy.”

  “So what, Steph? You fuck him over coffee, and hope I’m too dumb to realise what you’re up to?”

  “Cass,” Steph pleaded as she rubbed her neck. “Don’t make it sound like that.”

  “Well what is it, Steph?” The words were laced with copious amounts of venom. Each one stung more than the last.

  She sighed, and flopped into the armchair, her knees drawn tightly together. “I don’t know what you expect me to do?” she whispered.

  “Kick his psycho ass to the curb. Tell him you’re better than him; that you deserve someone who doesn’t play with you, and leave whenever he wants.” Cass jabbed angrily at the open bedroom door as she spoke.

  Steph’s gaze stuck on the room as Pete emerged in the doorway. He tugged his shirt back on.

  “Exactly why is she better than me?” he asked Cass. The guy clearly wanted a reason to join the argument.

  The stupid woman crossed her arms, and stuck her chin up in defiance. “Because she has a heart. She doesn’t toy with people, then toss them aside and tell them they’ve been ‘fun’.”

  Steph cringed. She should never have told Cass that.

  “Oh, really?” Pete scoffed. “Did it ever occur to ya that I’m not simply ‘toying’ with her? That perhaps—wait for it, this will blow yer mind—I actually give a fuck? And maybe that is why I play the games she wants me to play with her?” His eyebrows rose as he waited for the statement to sink in.

  Cass stared, incredulous. “You mean to tell me, that she wants you to play with her like some cheap lay?”

  Pete nodded, a smug, sardonic grin on his lips.

  Steph buried her head in her hands. She couldn’t watch another second of her life dissolve before her eyes. You may as well become a street-corner stripper now. You’d make more money out of public humiliation that way. What would Cass think of her after this? Was the damage reversible?

  “Is this true, Steph?”

  She plied her fingers apart enough to catch a glimpse of Cass’s worried expression. “Yes?” she squeaked.

  Not a word was spoken for what seemed to be hours. Cass stood in silence as the news sunk in. Steph sat patiently, afraid to push her for a response. Pete, as usual, watched with an amused interest. In mere minutes her life had been turned upside down. If she was naive enough to think that meeting Pete had been a life-changing event, she was stupider than she gave herself credit for. Now ... now her closest friend thought she was some delirious sex-fiend, and it wouldn’t take long for the word to get around when the others—Ivan, and her family—knew she had chosen Pete over sanity.

  Yeah. She had chosen him already. Even before this shit-storm erupted.

  Oh God. What the hell are you doing?

  Cass stared at her; nose crinkled with the same disgust a person who had only then realised they stood in dog shit earlier would show. Her eyes relayed hurt, but even sadder was disappointment.

  “Don’t look at me like that,” Steph pleaded.

  “Like what?” Cass bit.

  “Like you’re disappointed in me. I haven’t done anything wrong.”

  Cass scoffed. “Sure, babe. Whatever turns your wheels.”

  “Oi,�
� Pete interjected, his hand held up in protest. “What kind of friend are ya if yer gonna dis' her like that, for what? Bein’ brave enough to admit what pleases her?”

  “You’re both as crazy as each other if you think letting a man treat you like a whore is okay.” Cass threw her hands in the air. “Oh, no. Hang on. Whore’s get paid.”

  Steph couldn’t hold back. The tears flowed freely as she stood and looked between the two people she only moments ago would have sacrificed anything for. The muddle in her head left her unsure if she cried from self-pity, or pure frustration, but either way, the two people who bickered in front of her were the reason for it.

  “Everybody get out,” she screamed. “Now.”

  Cass didn’t attempt to argue. She snatched her jacket, and stormed from the house. Steph knew she didn’t have her car to get home, but at that point in time she couldn’t care less how the woman got there—Cass wasn’t her problem anymore.

  “Love—“

  “Can it!”

  Pete reeled from the impact of her words, and raised an eyebrow. “What have I done?”

  “You told her that I want you to treat me like a trashy hooker. Since when did I actually demand that you tease me, lead me on, and fucking humiliate me in public?”

  His eyes narrowed, and his foot lifted to take a step forward. Yet he changed his mind, and took two back. “Correct me if I’m wrong, Love, but ya kept comin’ back for more.”

  Steph shook her head in disbelief. Was he that convinced of his fantasy that he truly believed she threw herself mercilessly at him the whole time? “Hardly, Pete. You stalked me to my place of work, and ... and did shit that I could have been fired for. You risked everything I’ve worked for, and why? So you can get your rocks off on doing what you like? Let’s face it—this has never been about me.” She may as well have slapped him for the way he grimaced as she laid the battery of words on him.

  Pete raised a hand to the back of his neck as he drew his face down to hide his eyes. “I never thought ya saw it like that,” he whispered.

  “Well, I did.” Steph’s chin quivered. More tears pushed forth. But damn him if she would cry any longer. Her heart ached with the pain of a thousand knives stabbing into her chest, but this morning’s turn of events had simply brought an issue to a head that otherwise, would have taken a lot longer to present itself. At least she had this argument with him now, and not months down the track when she had separated herself from any trace of her former life.

  Pete drew a long breath, and hmph-ed it out heavily through his nose. “I guess I’ll go. Wouldn’t want ya thinkin’ I’m tryin’ to coerce ya into anythin’ ya didn’t want, would I?”

  The cold malice in his comment ripped her chest in two. She had hurt him, accused him of something pretty darn serious. Maybe he had it coming anyway? At least, that would be what she would have to tell herself to make it through the fall-out.

  He disappeared into the bedroom, and re-emerged a short time later with the rest of his clothes. “I won’t expect ya to call,” he walked to the front door, and paused with his fingers wrapped around the frame, “but it would be nice if ya did.”

  The scene of chaos before Steph blurred into an indecipherable mass of colours as the tears broke free en masse. She fell to her knees when the solid wooden door made a definitive thunk behind him. Moisture soaked into her clothes where the tears ran in rivers of regret, and heart-shattering pain off her jaw. What had she done? Words spoken in the heat of the moment never brought any good. She should have shut her mouth, and waited until later. What did I do?

  The sheer size of the townhouse which she had loved only yesterday, loomed over her as a blatant reminder of how vastly alone she now was. Steph wanted support, wanted somebody to talk to about what had happened. But who could she call? Her mother wasn’t even a candidate for the list. Cass had walked out of her life. Ivan would flip out and go after Pete. And her Dad ... although he would be supportive, and level-headed, she didn’t want to reveal what a failure she was to him. He had always been proud of her, in everything she did, and now wasn’t the time to crush that.

  Ben.

  Maybe Ben would understand?

  He’d had his fair share of shitty relationships. Again, she risked the chance he would flip out, and take after Pete. But heaven help her, she just needed someone with her. Steph wiped her nose on the hem of her t-shirt, and rose to her feet. She closed her eyes with a hand against the wall for balance, and waited until her breaths evened out; the shudders caused from too many tears finally over. Her feet dragged as she made her way to the kitchen counter to retrieve her phone. Hopefully Ben was available. If the call went through to voicemail, then who knew what she would do.

  Steph dialled his number, and held the phone to her ear. Her hand still shook from the fit of tears, and the friction of her phone against the shell of her ear burned. She placed the phone on the counter, and tapped speaker. Ben picked up shortly after.

  “Sis. You must really dig living so close.” His tone was light, and playful. She stopped herself before she hung up on him, simply to preserve his good mood.

  “Hey. Are you free?” The hoarse sound of her words was undeniable.

  “What’s happened?”

  “Nothing much. I just need somebody to talk to.”

  “Where’s Cass? I can shoot over tomorrow on my way home from work?”

  “Don’t worry about it,” Steph said. The final syllable trembled.

  “Sis? Tell me what’s up.”

  Pete wrenched the door shut behind him with a less than satisfying thunk. All this time, he had kidded himself that she wanted this. Was he that perverse now that he couldn’t tell when a woman was doing something out of fear?

  You’re exactly like ya father.

  Too much so. Low-life mind-fuckery was the exact kind of thing his bully of a father would have done to get a woman in his bed. He’d seen it plenty in those impressionable years. Fuck, even as a five-year-old he could recognise fear in a woman’s eye. An emotion he’d never seen grace his mothers eyes—not once. Not even when they read out her sentence, and led her away from her freedom.

  The bitch would be here in two days. Two. Fucking. Days.

  Pete wrenched the door of his rat-rod open, and slumped into the low driver’s seat. How could he let this happen? How could he let Steph wrap him about her finger like that? Had he finally lost his marbles? Was he days from incarceration himself? He slammed a tight fist into the solid panel-work of the door, and growled at the pain. Fuck this. Fuck her. Remember who ya are Pistol. You’re an asshole, a jerk that doesn’t care. Ya better fuckin’ remember it.

  The key groaned as he wrenched it past the point of ignition. The engine shook the chopped body violently as it ignited with more fuel than needed. He gunned the gas, and a sadistic grin spread at the throaty sound. The shifter slammed into first gear, and as soon as the tread slipped on the road he dropped the clutch, and slung the car into a lengthy burnout. Fuck ya. Some nosey neighbour wandered to the roadside as he passed by. The rubber picked up traction, and the body whipped straight. He cruised at a comfortable speed further up the road, and brought his phone out of his pocket to dial Richard.

  “Hey. We all good?”

  “Yeah,” Pistol agreed. “I’ve been thinkin’ about me dear mam’s visit.”

  “Yeah?”

  “Thought we might as well throw her a welcomin’ party.”

  ****

  Steph cringed as the tyres tore a hole in the tarmac outside her house. Thanks, Pete. Great impression for my new neighbours.

  “You still there?” Ben asked.

  “Yeah, yeah. Sorry.”

  “Spill the deets then. What’s so bad that Cass has walked out on you?”

  “I shacked up with a guy she doesn’t like.”

  “So? Since when have you let the opinions of others affect you?”

  Steph glanced at herself in the bedroom mirror as she sat on the edge of her bed. Ben was right. Look
at her. Tattoo’s, alternative clothes, piercings. Since when did she care? “You’re right, bro. I think this time I’m worried about it, because she seemed sure she wouldn’t talk to me again. We said some pretty horrible things to each other.”

  He chuckled. “Do I need to remind you of that time she caught you wearing the same new dress she’d bought the day before? It’s Cass, sis. She can get pretty feisty over nothing.”

  “Maybe.” Steph drew her lip between her teeth, and worried the flesh to the point of pain. “I took it out on him, though.”

  “Damn. Was he there for it?”

  “Yeah.”

  “Was it his fault?”

  “Kind of. He didn’t exactly help the situation, much.”

  “Why doesn’t Cass like him?”

  Steph paused to work on a better way to say it than with the exact words Cass had used. “She thinks he doesn’t have my best interests at heart, because of stuff he’s done, stuff he’s said.”

  “Who is this guy, anyway?” Ben’s lowered tone hinted at a burgeoning vendetta.

  “I don’t think you know him. Don’t do anything, Ben. Leave him alone.”

  “Sis,” he urged. “If he hurt you, I want to know what his fucking reason is.”

  “I think I hurt him worse.”

  Silence hung thickly between them. “Did he deserve it?” Ben asked.

  Steph sighed. Did he? Had what he done to her over the last week been that bad? “I don’t know.”

  “Come on. It’s not hard to figure out. Either he’s a fuck-wit who deserved what he got, or you over-reacted as badly as Cass.”

  Steph giggled. “Drama central over here this morning. Reality shows ‘aint got nothin’ on me.”

  He laughed. “Girls. You lot make things so much more complicated than they have to be.”

  Steph’s face fell. Things were complicated. “There’s more to it. I just ... I don’t know how to tell you.”

  “You’ve booked a sex change to win the heart of a gay man?”

  She snorted. “Hardly.”