by Naomi West
“Fuck it,” he said.
With that, he reached over and slammed the emergency stop button. The elevator stopped where it was and Grit turned to Honey with a ravenous look in his eyes, a look that was matched by hers. Without wasting a second, he wrapped his arm around her waist and pulled her close.
“Right here in the elevator, huh?” she asked. “I’m into it.”
Grit didn’t say another word. Lunging in, he locked his lips onto Honey’s neck, kissing the delicate skin and taking in her sweet scent. Honey moaned at his touch, closing her eyes and letting her head fall back. After covering her exposed skin with kisses, Grit knew that he needed to get her naked as fast as possible. Within seconds, he had Honey down to nothing but her skimpy bra and panties, and the look in her eyes let him know in no uncertain terms that she was ready for what he had in mind.
Grabbing Honey by the hips, he pulled her up so that her ass was seated on the silver railing that lined the wall of the elevator. With a quick yank, he ripped off Honey’s black thong and tossed it aside. Honey moaned and wrapped her legs around Grit, pulling him closer.
With Honey right where he wanted her, Grit went to work on his jeans and belt. Within seconds, his long, thick cock was out and pointing right at Honey’s awaiting sex. With a quick thrust, he entered her and began pounding her hard, bracing her against the elevator wall. Honey moaned and screamed, wrapping her legs right around Grit, her hands clamped down onto his wide, strong shoulders. Grit loved how small Honey was—all the easier to pick her up and do just whatever he wanted with her. And that was just what he did.
Grit penetrated Honey again and again, grunting as he did.
“God, your cock is just … perfect,” exclaimed Honey, her voice breathy and heavy with arousal.
Grit wasn’t in the mood for words. All he wanted to do was fuck her hard, to pound her again and again, to fill her full with his cum.
“Fuck me, fuck me,” said Honey, holding onto Grit for dear life.
Then, Honey’s body shook and quivered in the way that made it clear to Grit that she was cumming. She wrapped her legs around him even harder as she cried out. Grit’s orgasm was right there with her. With another few deep plunges, he exploded inside of her, emptying himself into her pussy.
After a time, they were both spent. Grit held onto Honey, and she rested her head on his shoulder as they both caught their breath. Grit pressed the button to start the elevator up again, and soon they were back on their way.
“These were one of my best pairs,” said Honey with a grin as she held up the panties that Grit had ripped from her body in the throes of passion.
“Lesson to be learned there,” said Grit. “Might want to think about only wearing whatever you’re fine with getting torn off whenever you stop by.”
“Oh yeah?” asked Honey as the elevator rose. “That means these little meetings are more than just about pumping me for information.”
“I think you of all people should know by now what kind of ‘pumping’ they’re about.”
Honey smiled and rolled her eyes.
“I should’ve seen that one coming,” she said.
“I’ll say.”
Moments later they were back in the hotel room. Grit poured a drink for the both of them and they stood out on the balcony. Now that his need was satisfied for the time being, Grit returned to the idea that he couldn’t shake—that Honey was lying to him.
“Listen,” he said. “This little arrangement we have …”
“I assume you’re not referring to the type we just had in the elevator.”
“You’d be right,” said Grit, turning his gaze to the city. “Anyway, it only works if you’re being honest with me. I know this is all tough, and that you’re running some major risk, but I need to know everything that you do.”
Honey looked away and swallowed. Grit knew he was onto something, but he also could sense that Honey was the type who wouldn’t respond to having too much pressure placed on her. He knew that turning up the heat might just make her leave and never return. Then he’d be right back at square one.
And what’s more, looking at Honey, seeing her standing there looking afraid and vulnerable—it did something to Grit. He felt a tugging at his heart that he hadn’t felt in years.
Fuck, he thought, am I starting to catch feelings for this girl? No fuckin’ way am I gonna let that happen.
But he couldn’t help but feel the need to be there for her, to protect her. Sure, he wanted to get the information he was looking for, but the thought of Honey being hurt in the process didn’t sit right with him one bit. In fact, it made him sick to his stomach.
He needed the information, though. Grit realized that he’d need a delicate touch to pull this one off.
“Listen,” said Grit, softening his voice just a bit. “I know this is hard, and I know that I’m asking a lot of you. And to be honest, when I first asked you to do this job, I had my hesitations that you’d be able to pull it off.”
“Oh, really?” asked Honey.
“I had no idea if you were made of tough stuff or not,” said Grit. “But you know what’s at stake here; you know that killer drugs are on the streets, and you can help put a stop to it. You have the power to make a difference. And this is all hard, I’m sure, but I think you know deep down what the right thing to do is.”
Honey looked away, and Grit could tell that his words were having some effect. But he also knew that if he pushed any harder that she might back off. So, he let it rest for now. Honey took in a long, slow breath, and Grit could tell that he’d given her plenty to think about.
However, there was still the issue of whatever feelings he was beginning to have for the girl.
They’re nothing, he thought. Just feeling protective for a girl who needs someone to look out for her. That’s all.
Deep down, however, those words didn’t ring true for Grit. Deep down, he knew that it was something different.
Chapter Nine
Honey
The conversation with Grit stuck in Honey’s mind and didn’t leave. She thought over and over again about everything he had said, and she knew that he was right. There was more at stake than she realized, and she knew that though she had her loyalties to Charlie, it was no excuse for letting killer drugs land on the streets.
But still, she couldn’t help but feel fearful at the task that lay ahead of her. Honey knew that if she told Grit that Charlie had been giving drugs away to people to sample, like he’d done with Bethany, then that might just be all the proof he needed to confirm that there was indeed something shady going on at Fantasies. It’d be a bell that she couldn’t un-ring.
“Honey, you look like you’ve seen a ghost or something,” said Bethany as the two women prepared for their shift backstage.
“Just … got a lot on my mind is all,” said Honey, her gaze focused on her reflection.
She’s right, Honey thought, noting her worried expression. It doesn’t take a shrink to know that there’s something going on with me.
“It’s that guy, isn’t it?” asked Bethany. “I know it; you’ve got ‘boy problems’ written all over your face.”
“I mean, kind of,” said Honey.
Right as the words left Bethany’s mouth, Honey knew that she wasn’t too far off. Honey, in spite of what she knew to be the smart thing to do, had to admit that she was developing feelings for Grit. She scolded herself over and over. After all, what worse candidate for a partner could she think of than some motorcycle club gang member who was perfectly comfortable operating outside of the law? She knew she needed a nice man, a man with a normal job, a man who could provide her with a normal life.
But try as she might, she couldn’t ignore the hold that Grit had on her. Honey looked back on the last few weeks as the most intense that she could remember. There was something about Grit; he had an inner strength that she found herself drawn to beyond compare. And that wasn’t even getting into the sex …
“More than
‘kind of’,” said Bethany. “You’re fucking smitten. Don’t even try to lie to me.”
“I just ... I don’t know what to do.”
“Spill it.”
Honey flashed a quick glance at Bethany. Something about her looked tired, worn down. Honey watched as Bethany applied more makeup than usual, covering up the bags under her eyes and the wan look of her skin.
Is she still on those drugs? thought Honey.
“Um, it’s a guy from here, like I said,” said Honey. “And we’ve been seeing each other a lot over the last few weeks. But, well, I don’t know what he thinks about all of it. I mean, I think he likes me, I really do, but he’s one of those guys who keeps everything to himself.”
“The strong and silent type?”
“Yeah, something like that; the kind of guy who doesn’t let anyone in.”
“Ugh, I know the type,” said Bethany. “Always acting like feelings are, like, a sign of weakness or something. All you want is to know where you stand with them and they act like you’re asking for a goddamn diamond ring.”
“That’s so true,” said Honey. “I’m just like, let me know what you’re thinking, one way or the other. But I know if I asked him, he’d back away. And it doesn’t help that we’re working together on something.”
“Oh?” asked Bethany. “And what’s that?”
“Um,” said Honey, realizing she’d said more than she should’ve. “Just a, um, personal project.”
But before Bethany had a chance to interrogate her more, a wave of nausea ran through Honey’s stomach. She lurched forward a bit, bracing herself against the vanity. For a brief moment, she felt like she just might throw up.
“You okay there?” asked Bethany.
“Yeah,” said Honey. “Just felt a little weird for a second.”
“Well, you’re gonna need to get over it—we’re on in a few.”
“I know, I know,” said Honey.
The two girls finished applying their makeup and made the last-minute adjustments to their outfits. Another brief wave of sickness hit Honey as she finished getting ready, and she realized that there was something wrong with her that she couldn’t ignore.
You’re just stressed, is all, she told herself. Just get through the shift and you can get home and get some rest. You’re putting too much pressure on yourself and it’s gonna start showing one way or another.
Taking a deep breath, she went with Bethany to the hallway leading to the main room. Another wave hit her as she stood waiting for her turn, and Honey started to worry that she might not be able to make it.
“And now,” called the DJ, “it’s time for the girl who’s sweet as can be—give it up for Honey!”
Applause sounded out from the crowd, but right as Honey stepped over the threshold leading to the stage, another jolt of nausea hit her, this one more intense than any of the others. She realized that she just might throw up right then and there. The eyes of the crowd on her, she turned on her heels and ran back down the hallway, her hand over her mouth.
“Honey!” shouted Bethany. “Where the hell you going?”
Honey rushed to the bathroom in the dressing room, rushed into the nearest stall, and vomited. Bethany was hot on her heels and followed her into the stall.
“Oh my God, you’re sick as hell!” said Bethany.
But once the first burst of vomit left her lips, Honey felt a little bit better.
“What’s the matter?” asked Bethany. “You eat something that didn’t agree with you?”
“I don’t know,” said Honey. “I felt fine up until a few minutes ago. Then it just hit me all of a sudden, like out of nowhere.”
“Hmm,” said Bethany, standing up in the stall, putting her foot on the toilet handle and giving it a flush. “Um, let me ask you something—you and this guy, have you been, you know, hitting it raw?”
Honey’s eyes went wide.
“What?”
“I mean, have you been practicing safe sex?”
Honey realized that the answer was a definite “no.”
“Um, shit,” said Honey.
Pregnant? she thought. I mean, that’s what Bethany is clearly getting at.
The idea was simply crazy to her. She was barely old enough to drink. How could she have a kid?
“Girls?” called out Charlie from outside the bathroom. “You all good in there?”
“We need to get you tested,” said Bethany. “And no way you’re gonna go up on stage and blow chunks on some trucker in the front row.”
Charlie knocked on the bathroom door.
“Here,” said Bethany. “Let me handle this.”
She hurried up and out of the stall, leaving the bathroom.
Once she was gone, Honey slumped back against the wall. She felt like it was all too much, like she had no idea just how she’d been able to handle the pressure that she was already under, let alone adding a baby on top of everything.
Who says that’s even what it is? she thought to herself. I might just have a bug or something.
But part of her knew it was true. And she knew that she and Grit had been having so much sex that it wasn’t exactly out of the realm of possibility that she might just be carrying his baby.
Her thoughts were interrupted by Bethany returning to the bathroom.
“Okay, we’re good,” she said.
“What’d you tell him?” asked Honey.
“You know—the usual excuses a girl can make up when talking to guys. The less said, the better.”
The two of them went back to the dressing room and got back into their normal clothes. A little while later, they were in Bethany’s car and headed to the nearest pharmacy. There, they purchased a pregnancy test and drove to Bethany’s apartment nearby.
“Sorry about the mess,” said Bethany, flicking on the lights.
“Mess” was putting it lightly. Bethany’s apartment struck Honey as near squalor. Alcohol bottles were here and there, along with food wrappers and other assorted trash. It struck Honey as more than just a mess that a girl might have when getting a little behind on her cleaning.
“Okay, get into the bathroom and do your business,” said Bethany. “I’ll tidy up while we wait for the results.”
Honey headed into the bathroom. Once there, she did her necessary business. Looking around the dingy bathroom, Honey spotted something under a dirty towel. It was something small and silver. Once Honey was done with her test, she reached under the towel and grabbed the object.
It was a small, bent, burnt spoon.
Honey was no expert on drugs, but she’d been around enough junkies to know that this was a telltale sign of use. She washed her hands, took the test, and headed back into the living room. Bethany was there, trying to do what she could to get the apartment looking somewhat presentable.
“Takes about a half-hour, right?’ asked Bethany.
“What’s this?” asked Honey, holding up the spoon.
Bethany’s face turned a deep red, and her hand shot out to grab the thing from Honey.
“Nothing,” she shot out. “It’s nothing. Don’t worry about it.”
“B, you’re using again, I know it,” said Honey, putting her hands on her hips. “No use lying to me.”
“It’s …” said Bethany, trailing off. “I mean, I know. But Charlie keeps shoving that shit in my face, telling me that he just tweaked the recipe and that I have to try it. I … can’t say no.”
“Then you need to get the hell out of that place,” said Honey. “If you can’t trust yourself not use if it’s in front of you, then you need to put as much distance between yourself and temptation as possible.”
“I know, I know,” said Bethany. “But I’m so close to having enough money to leave; I’m almost there.”
Honey rushed over to Bethany and took her hands into her own.
“That doesn’t matter if you die in the process,” said Honey. “This isn’t just some weed after work or something; this is serious shit. And people hav
e been dying from this … fucking poison. Please, Bethany—I can’t lose you. Especially if I’ve got a baby on the way. Promise me that you’ll quit.”
Bethany looked away for a moment, her expression heavy with shame.
“Fine,” she said. “I’ll quit. I promise.”
“Thank you,” said Honey, wrapping her arms around Bethany and hugging her tight.