by Lexi Aurora
“Open for me,” he murmured, leaning down to press a kiss into her shoulder. Blushing, she spread her legs for him, and let his fingers find that hidden bud within her center. She didn’t even try to disguise the shocked gasp that escaped her mouth as he worked her over. Her body responded accordingly, obviously more than willing as it made her ready for him after just a few short minutes of the scintillating pleasing. When he pulled away, his fingers were coated in her slickness, and she felt her abdomen tightening with the potential for what could be.
“I’m ready now,” she panted, pulling him to her impatiently. “Please?” he complied wordlessly, but the look in his eyes was more than enough for her. They kissed again, just as wanton and desperate, and she could feel him align himself with her entrance.
“Are you sure?” he breathed into her mouth, hesitating for just a moment.
“More than anything else in my entire life.”
The look in his eyes could only be described as pure sin, and he slid forward.
She gasped, body tensing itself into an arch yet again as he filled her. It was a perfect sensation, and one that was only amplified as he rolled his lips against her. God, how did it feel so good? It was impossible and yet her every nerve seemed to stand on end.
Passion overriding her senses, she scratched down his back in abandon. He hissed, but it seemed to urge him on even more, as his rhythm accelerated in time with her nail drags.
Gabriel gripped the flesh just above her hips, his fingers nearly biting into the skin there as he pulled her into each of his forceful thrusts. And she met every one of them with unchecked enthusiasm. After so much wandering, she was finally anchored.
And what a man to be anchored to.
But the wild ride could only last for so long and she felt her end rapidly hurtling towards her. She gripped him with all her might, breathing hard, but nothing could prepare her for the edge she went toppling over.
A cry ripped from her throat as she threw her head back. “God, Gabriel!”
She couldn’t see, she couldn’t breathe, and she couldn’t think, but it was the most pleasurable white-out she had ever experienced. Euphoric, she floated above reality for several moments before crashing back into her body.
Her thighs relaxed and she turned into the equivalent of a limp noodle just in time for her lover to reach his own end. He stiffened, his thrusts growing wild and uneven, and she felt his satisfaction fill her.
They collapsed against each other, covered in sweat and the afterglow of a perfect time. He rolled to her, flashing her a sleepy grin, and the scene faded into another.
On and on the vision went, increasing in speed as it went along. She saw flashes of a wedding, the birth of a child, moving, it went on and on. Some of them were happy, uplifting scenes. Some of them were stressful and full of sorrow. But the thing that remained the same was their constant presence in each other’s lives. Through the tears, through the laughs. Always together.
She came out of the vision to find that hardly a second had passed and the bodyguard was still sitting there expectantly, waiting for her to answer his question.
“You’re right, I don’t know you.” She sent him the most genuine smile she could as her hands squeezed his. “But I would like to. After all, we’ve got all the time in the world now, don’t we?”
“Well, the doctors said it would be at least a week before they feel comfortable releasing you, and I suppose the least I could do for saving my life is help escort you back home.”
“Perfect. It sounds like just enough time for a first date.” She thought back to her vision where they were eating and laughing. “How do you feel about Italian?”
“That’s my favorite. I know a great place about an hour outside of your home town.” He paused a moment and seemed to consider. “You already knew I liked it, didn’t you?”
She shrugged. “I guess you’ll have to wait and find out.”
Bonus: The Fast Billionaire
As Tommy and I speed down the back streets of Atlanta in his red rat rod, my irritation grows nearly as high as my desperation for him to stop. We’d taken an early lead, but as usual, Tommy is driving like a goddamn maniac. I can smell alcohol on his breath, and I’m not about to let his blatant disregard for my life slide.
“Tommy, you been drinking again? Before a race? For Christ’s sake, you’re going to get us both killed at this rate,” I hiss out, only receiving a nasally laugh in response. I tighten my hands on the sides of my seat, gripping it as tightly as possible. Though the seat belt is securely fastened across my torso, I don’t know how much I trust this junker to keep me safe.
“Aw, hell, Felicia. You never used to be such a bummer,” he slurs out, and I roll my eyes in response. My heart leaps into my throat as one of the rival racers pulls up beside us, driving us towards the side railing of the road. Tommy swears, and instead of evading them, he swerves to slam into the side of their car. Before Tom’s car collides with theirs, they abruptly slam on brakes. I hear a scream, belatedly realizing that it’s my own as we skid across the road. Tommy struggles to regain control of the car, and I ignore his furious demands for me to ‘shut my trap.’ My life flashes before my eyes. More importantly, the time I’ve wasted on Tommy Lopez floods my mind.
It’s always been the same old song and dance when it comes to Tom. I met him in high school, a time that now seems ages ago. He had been an all-around nice guy, at least, as far as I could tell. The whole, high school sweethearts spiel had caught me in its gnarled claws though we parted ways after my first year of college. A couple of years later found us laughing it up together at some corny couple’s mixer, and the rest, as they say, is history.
The problem with this little love story, as it were, is that Tommy Lopez was not the man I’d known in high school. While he’d kept it under wraps when we began dating again, he soon came to reveal a side of himself that I can’t say I was particularly fond of. He was hostile, volatile, and an adrenaline junkie to boot. To sustain his need for excitement, he regularly took part in his share of illegal street races throughout the metro area. This would not have been as much of a problem if he hadn’t forced me to join him for one of his races. Call it luck on his part, or misfortune on mine, but he won the first race of his career with me at his side. Ever since, in spite of my attempts to decline, he’d found his way of weaseling me into that passenger seat. Sometimes it was charm. More often than not, it was violence. When it came to a man who had no regard for the law, and even less regard for my well-being, I was reluctant to get on his bad side. At this rate, it seems like my efforts will have been for naught.
Jolted back to reality, I’m able to draw in a breath when it seems we might be able to get back on track. However, another car slams into the backside of Tommy’s rat rod, and another scream tears past my throat as we’re sent flipping down the road. I duck down as much as I am able, protecting my head with my arms. Tommy curses angrily, but falls silent as his head slams against the steering wheel. I can’t tell if he’s dead, or just knocked out, but I try to keep a grip on him to keep the idiot from flying out of the car. Blood pours from a wound on his head, as tears spill down my cheeks. I’m outright sobbing by the time the car stops, upside down with the two of us trapped inside. I can hear the engine continue to rev, as well as gas trickling out of the tank. It seems like a dangerous combination, and I struggle to unfasten my seatbelt so I can escape the seemingly inevitable explosion. I hear a car skid to a stop beside us, and I scream at the top of my lungs, hoping someone will help. I can’t believe I’ve allowed Tommy to drag me into a situation like this, one where I may very well lose my life. Though I’ve been with Tommy some time, and too afraid to leave him, something inside of me shifts. If I get out of this… maybe, somehow, I’ll find the nerve to get out of this gig for good. Just please, God, let me survive this crash.
“Holy shit,” I hear a smooth voice rumble, and the car shifts, if just slightly. A face peers down under the car at me, and I swear
for a moment that my heart skips a beat. Before me is the most handsome man (at least, the face of the most handsome man) I’ve ever laid eyes upon. He drops to the ground, and I try to contain my blubbering in some attempt to save my dignity. He whips out a knife, and a gasp escapes my lips. He draws the knife closer to me, but upon seeing my unease, he murmurs comfortingly. “Don’t worry, doll. I’m just cutting you loose,” he says gently. “When you race the streets as long as I have, you’ve seen your fair share of crashes.” I nod, and he slices through the seat belt, managing to catch me before I come crashing down altogether. “Can you crawl out?” he inquires softly. I hesitate for a moment, glancing back to my deadbeat boyfriend.
“Yeah, but Tommy,” I find myself whimpering. He sighs, shifting out of the way so I have the space to crawl out.
“I’ll get the jackass,” he rumbles. He ducks back under the car, and moments later emerges, dragging Tommy along with him. “Get away from the car; the damn thing might blow at this rate,” the stranger sighs, hefting Tommy up under his arms and dragging him along behind me. “You can get in the passenger side of my car and take a load off. I’ll drive you two to the emergency room,” he continues, gesturing to an expensive-looking sports car off to the side of the road. I realize with a start that I recognize that car. I turn to face the man, my eyes wide and uncomprehending.
“Jeffrey Byrd?” I demand.
“The one and only,” he smiles. I’m reluctant to meet his gaze as I shuffle into the passenger seat of his car. “You know, considering I just saved your life, you could be a little more talkative,” Jeffrey hums, lifting Tom into the backseat. I roll my eyes, leaning against the closed door and staring out the window.
“You’re one of Tom’s most notorious rivals in this gig, J-Byrd. I ain’t got no business fraternizing with you,” I grumble. He chuckles, slamming the back door shut before circling around to the driver’s side. He slips inside, offering me a warm smile. “That supposed to be charming or somethin’?” I grouse, trying to ignore his presence altogether. In reality, my heart is pounding so fast that I’m worried about having some kind of attack. The way he looks at me sends unwelcome shivers down my spine, though I’m not about to let him know that.
“I’m just trying to be polite, Felicia. I know this must be a rather…unwelcome situation,” he murmurs, smiling to himself.
“You’re a bit too cheerful considering the circumstances, buddy,” I bite out. He considers me from the corner of his eye, and there’s something in his gaze that makes my breath catch. It’s familiar, but only vaguely so. “Tommy used to look at me like that, you know,” I mutter, crossing my arms over my chest.
“He doesn’t anymore? That’s a pity,” Jeff responds mildly. His utter calmness just doesn’t jive with me, and I part my lips to snap out a snide remark. However, I’m cut short when he swerves the car into a parking spot and shifts the vehicle into park. . “You wanna go fetch a wheelchair from the front entrance? It’d be easier to cart the sack of shit than lug him around,” Jeff rumbles, opening his door and slipping out of the car.
“How can you act like this is the most natural situation in the world?” I snap angrily, in spite of the fact that I’m following his instructions. It’s a hell of a thing, trying to retain your dignity in such a pisser of a situation. I should be thanking my lucky stars that I survived the crash, but hell, I just want to go home and sleep the whole thing off.
“No sense in getting my panties in a twist over it, like you seem to be doing,” Jeff says slyly, carelessly plopping Tommy in the wheelchair. It strikes me that I should be angry at how callous he is being with my boyfriend, but I’m too wrapped up in his disrespect for me.
“I almost died, you cocky bastard,” I hiss, feeling my insides boil as he only considers me with a small smile. There’s something about his attitude that rubs me the wrong way, but at the same time…I find myself drawn to him. Cocksure attitude and all, Jbyrd is a strange but attractive sort of guy. I sure don’t plan to let him see that though. He’s already got a big enough head, I don’t want to give him any ideas.
“But you didn’t, thanks to me. Most women would be throwing themselves at my feet, at this point,” he says smoothly, quirking a cocky grin. I shove past him, rolling Tommy up to the entry of the emergency room.
“Obviously, I’m not like most women,” I grumble. Jeff laughs from behind me, and I can only wonder why he’s sticking around. As I roll Tommy inside, a nurse bombards me with questions about the moron, all the while making goo-goo eyes at JByrd. I don’t know how to explain Tommy’s situation to the woman, but Jeff is quick to step in, wrapping an arm around me in the process. I stiffen beneath his touch, resisting the urge to snap like a rabid canine.
“My friends here were in a bit of a fender bender. I trust you can take care of our old pal here, right?” Jeff croons, and the nurse nearly swoons.
“I’ll see this gentleman taken care of right away,” the nurse assures Jeff, paying me little mind. I cross my arms over my chest, irritation brewing in my gut.
“Listen here, I know I’m not in the piss-poor condition that Tommy’s in, but I could use a bit of medical attention too, ya feel me?” I say loudly, catching the attention of…no one, save my smug knight in shining leather. God knows how many cows had to die for his tacky ensemble.
“Are you feeling a little affection-starved, Felicia?” He smiles, reaching out to rest a hand on my shoulder. I lurch away, narrowing my eyes at the cocky little rich boy.
“I think I’m doing just fine, JByrd. Seems to me like you’re the one aching for an ego stroke here,” I say, curling my lips in a smirk. He meets my gaze, that vaguely familiar glint making his eyes shimmer.
“I can think of a lot more than my ego that could use a fair stroking,” he grins, and it’s all I can do to keep from slapping the shit out of him. He smiles that smarmy little grin that a lesser woman could find herself falling for in a heartbeat. Fortunately for all involved, I’m not your usual pit lizard. Don’t get me wrong, I’m grateful for the guy saving my ass. If I was gonna dump Tommy’s ass for another guy, it just wouldn’t be another street racer. Far as I can tell, Tom’s gonna be out of the game for a bit. His car was his pride and joy, and the thing looked akin to a smashed tin can when we’d left it at the crash site. Sure, my boyfriend is a deadbeat, but maybe being out of the game for a while will knock some sense into that dense skull of his.
Still…something about JByrd seems to jive in a way that things never did with Tommy. He’s a cocky son of a bitch, but there has to be some good in him. He saved our lives after all, for no discernable reason. Tommy wouldn’t put his life on the line for anyone, not even me… That doesn’t mean I won’t put the pretty boy in his place.
“You seem like the kind of guy who can handle a self-serve feel up,” I retort. His eyes bulge, and in that moment, it strikes me just how big this guy is. Tommy’s a big ol’ boy, but he’s mostly gut. JByrd was the tall type with the muscular build to match. If he wanted something from me bad enough, I was pretty confident that he could take it. An almost primal fear creeps up my spine as he looks as if his expression could shift to one of rage at any moment.
“Damn, Felicia,” he finally explodes, and to my shock, his body is shaking with laughter. He shakes his head in disbelief, as if he can’t believe the nerve I have. For my part, I can’t believe it either. “You’re a sharp one. It’s a wonder Tommy the Tank can handle a little spitfire like you.” Jeff smiles, running a hand through his dark and shaggy hair. He looks up, meeting my gaze warmly. “And it looks like I finally got a smile out of you,” he hums. I realize with a start that I am, in fact, smiling, but hadn’t yet noticed.
“Not because you managed to charm me or somethin’ like that, rich boy,” I say, though the words come out with a bit less certainty than I’d like. “It’s just that you street boys are usually all the same. You know, like Tommy,” I mutter, wrapping my arms around myself. He quirks a brow, considering me with more kindness
than I’ve seen in the last five years of my life.
“And what, exactly, is Tommy like?” he prompts, taking a step closer to me. I can only think that he plans to pull a fast one on me, so I shift back on my heel, away from him.
“You know, J. Hot-headed, tends to talk with his fists instead of his lips,” I manage grudgingly. He seems taken aback, tensing his hands into fists at his side. I don’t know why I’m opening up to anyone like this, let alone someone like Jeffrey Byrd.
“He hits you, doesn’t he?” he says bluntly, and I try to fight my instinctual, deer-in-the-headlights stare. I neither confirm nor deny, but Jeff seems to take the hint. His clenches his fists tighter, and for a moment, I wonder if I’ve gone from a bad situation to a worse one. “You can’t think every man in the world would be that much of a dirtbag,” he whispers, sending chills up my spine.
“I guess I’ll never know,” I chuckle.
“Atlanta’s a big town. You’re convinced that there’s not a nice guy in the whole city?” Jeff says.