Cash

by Hildreth, Scott

  I took a sip of coffee and met his gaze. “Someone rear-ended them on the Five. It’s been just me for almost ten years. July twenty-ninth, it’ll be the tenth anniversary of their death.”

  He reached for my hand. “I’m so sorry.”

  “It must have been God’s will,” I said. “That’s what I tell myself, anyway. I wish you could have met them, though. They were they best.”

  As he held my hand in his, his eyes remained fixed on me for a long time. After taking a precursory glance at my plate, I looked at him.

  “What?”

  “You’re a beautiful woman,” he said.

  I squeezed his hand and smiled. “Thank you.”

  He reached for his fork. “Did you like ‘em like this? Like your dad cooked ‘em?”

  I smiled. “I did.”

  “Hell, I’ve been staying all night over here for what? A week? Why have you been scrambling them?” He poked another chunk of toast into the yolk. “We could have been doing this.”

  “Eleven days,” I said. “It’s been Eleven days.”

  “Eleven days of scrambled eggs?” He chuckled. “You’ve been counting?”

  “Not the eggs, but yes.” I smiled. “I’ve been counting.”

  “I don’t keep track of days.”

  “At all?”

  “Nope. Every time that clock ticks, it’s one second less that I get to spend on this earth. I make the most of my time here, and don’t bother keeping track of what’s gone. If I did, it’d just remind me of what little I’ve got left.”

  “What about birthdays?”

  “I don’t celebrate ‘em.”

  I laughed.

  “I’m serious,” he said. “It’s another reminder.”

  “But you know how old you are.”

  “I’m not an idiot,” he said with a laugh. “But I don’t need to celebrate being another year closer to death.”

  “I’ve never looked at it that way.”

  “I can’t look at it any way other than that. I never understood someone wanting to celebrate a date that reminded them that another year had passed. That they had one year less to live on earth. It’s like, hot fuckin’ damn, I’m one year closer to death. Let’s have a fuckin’ party.”

  He cut the remaining egg and toast in unison, eating one piece of each with every forkful. Cash was definitely cast from a different mold than most. I couldn’t imagine him any other way.

  For the next minute or so, we ate our breakfast in silence. In the living room, twenty feet away, my Tiffany & Co knock-off clock ticked away each passing second with a pronounced clack.

  A reminder that I’d spent one more second with the man of my dreams.

  TWENTY-TWO - Cash

  Jennifer sat on the loveseat across from us with a mimosa in her hand. After a long study of Kimberly, she shifted her eyes to me.

  She took a drink. Then, another.

  “What?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “You two make me sick.”

  “Why?” Kimberly asked.

  She kept her eyes trained on me. “How long have you been here?”

  “On earth? Thirty-one years.”

  “No, you big dumb dork. Here. At her house?”

  I shrugged. “I don’t know.”

  “Too long,” she said. “That’s how long.”

  Kimberly gasped. “Jennifer!”

  She looked at Kimberly. “Well. He’s cutting into our time.”

  “Spend more time with Tito,” I said with a laugh.

  “I spent time with him last night. He came by to fix my computer.”

  Kimberly leaned forward. “He did what?”

  “Fixed my computer. He’s a computer tech. A good one, too. He cleaned all the viruses I got from those porn sites, fixed the hard drive, and now I’m up and running.”

  Kimberly looked at me. “Tito fixes computers?”

  “He’s good at anything to do with computers,” I said. “He got a scholarship to MIT, but didn’t go.”

  “Seriously?”

  “Yeah. He even got job offers from the government to hack into the hacker’s computers, but he didn’t accept them. He just does his own thing.”

  “Wow. That’s incredible.”

  “What’s incredible is that you’re still here,” Jennifer said in a snide tone.

  I gestured toward her flute of juice-laced champagne. “Who drinks at ten in the morning, anyway?”

  She waved her hand toward Kimberly. “We used to. Now I do. Alone. You’ve changed things. That’s why I’m here. It’s time for you to go home, Dolla.”

  “Quit calling me that. My name’s Cash.”

  “To me, you’ll always be Dolla Bill.”

  She finished her mimosa in one gulp, set the glass aside, and then covered her face with her hands. “My life is over.”

  “What’s wrong?” Kimberly asked.

  “I’ve got to beg him to come over. I think he’s embarrassed about his mouth. Jaw. Whatever. All the wires.” She lifted her head and looked at me. “If it wasn’t for you, I’d be riding your buddy’s dick right now.”

  “A man’s got to do what a man’s got to do,” I said. “Sorry.”

  She thrust her face into her open hands “Sorry doesn’t get me laid.”

  Jennifer was an active part of Kimberly’s life no differently than the fellas were an active part of mine. I liked it that the three of us were becoming friends. Despite her theatrics, she was friendly, jovial, and always playful.

  “If you want to get laid, all you’ve got to do is go down to the 7-Eleven, buy a bottle of water, and then drop it on the floor in front of the checkout.”

  She glared at me. “How’s that going to get me laid?”

  “I’ve never been in there that there wasn’t fifteen or twenty people in line. If you bent over to pick it up, someone would ask you out. Why don’t you go try it?”

  “What are you saying?”

  Kimberly snorted. “I think he’s saying your shorts are too short. Without saying your shorts are too short.”

  She reached between her thighs and tugged against the denim. “They’re not too short.”

  “If you say so.”

  As Jennifer made another mimosa, I sipped my coffee and pulled Kimberly tight against my shoulder. My life had changed in the last few weeks. The differences weren’t anything I was searching for, but I welcomed them without question.

  I couldn’t argue with how she made me feel.

  When Jennifer returned, she looked at us and shook her head. “Aren’t you two cute. The big bad biker and the prom queen all snuggled together on the couch.”

  I turned to face Kimberly. “You were prom queen?”

  She smiled. “It was a long time ago.”

  “But, you were?”

  “I was.”

  Jennifer raised her glass to her mouth, paused, and cocked one eyebrow the best she could. “What have you done that’s noteworthy, Dolla?”

  I thought about her question for an inordinate amount of time. After coming to the realization that I’d done not one thing worth mentioning, I decided the last two weeks contained the most notable accomplishment of my life.

  “Nothing.” I kissed Kimberly. “Until now.”

  TWENTY-THREE - Kimberly

  I stood in front of the mirror, staring into the one spot I’d wiped free of condensation. I watched Cash’s reflection eagerly as he walked through the bathroom with a towel wrapped around his waist. There was so much of him that was easy to admire when his clothes were on. With them off I easily went into sensory overload.

  He pulled his towel free, reached for the shower door, and paused.

  My gaze fell to his mid-section. A perfect side view of his cute butt commanded my attention. I stared at it until my mind drifted away and the image went out of focus. Even though he had just finished fucking me senseless, my pussy began to tingle. He seemed to have that effect on me, making me wet with not much more than a smile or the light touch o
f his hand.

  Wet washboard abs or a bare ass wreaked havoc on my ability to make it to work.

  He’d spent the last eighteen nights at my house, going home each day for a change of clothes. I scanned the length of his body, pausing his broad chest. As I gazed at him admiringly, I noticed he was watching me while I watched him.

  “What?” his reflection asked.

  “I was just.” I sighed. “Get in the shower. You’re driving me nuts.”

  His eyes fell to my butt. “Your ass drives me nuts.”

  I realized I was standing in front of the mirror in nothing more than my panties. It was something I’d never done with Marvin. I learned in the last few weeks, however, that I enjoyed being naked in Cash’s presence. His verbal admiration of me was enough to keep me naked more than I was clothed.

  “You look incredible,” he said.

  I turned around. “Thank you.”

  “That ass is…” He bit into the heel of his palm and growled.

  I’d always thought my butt was too big, but he seemed to see it differently. His praise of it was convincing me that maybe I’d been wrong for all those years.

  “Did you put a new blade in your razor? he asked.

  “Actually, I bought you your own while you were out last night,” I said. “It’s in the shower. Yours is silver, mine is blue.

  “Seems kinda backward.” He stepped inside and pulled the door closed. “Thanks.”

  I put on my makeup while he took a shower., singing a song the entire time.

  “What song is that?” I asked.

  “Fuck, I don’t know,” he responded. “I just make shit up and sing it in the shower. Have since I was a kid.”

  The more I learned about Cash, the easier it was to like him. He was big, and he was tough, but he was nothing more than a child at heart.

  “You know what’d be cool?” he asked.

  I wiped the fog off the mirror with a hand towel. “What’s that?”

  “To have a shower big enough that we could both fit in it.”

  I grinned at the thought. “That’d be nice.”

  “Maybe one of these days.”

  Hearing him say such things gave me hope that I was more to him than a piece of ass or a two-week long fling. Our future wasn’t something we’d discussed. Considering the amount of time we’d been together, I didn’t expect it. At least not yet.

  But it was sure nice to think about.

  He finished showering. He opened the door and reached for his towel, only to find out he’d placed it too far away to reach.

  “Can a man get a little help?” he asked with a laugh. “I don’t want to get the floor wet.”

  The little things he didn’t do – like traipse water all over the bathroom floor – made seeing a future with him much easier than if he did them. It seemed all my pet peeves were things that he, too, saw as annoying.

  I turned around, pulled his towel from the rack, and reached toward his outstretched hand. With the quickness of a cat, he grabbed my wrist and pulled me into the shower stall with him.

  He pinned me to the wet wall, pressed his lips to mine, and kissed me deeply. While we kissed, his firm chest pressed against my bare boobs. His hands slid the length of my body, pausing at my butt. He gripped it tightly and pulled me into him. Feeling his cock swell against my stomach drove me wild with passion.

  I wagged my knees back and forth. My pussy ached for him.

  He pulled away and looked me in the eyes.

  “Cash, my God,” I whispered. “You’re…”

  “I’m what,” he whispered in return.

  “You’re driving me insane. I haven’t stopped by the boutique yet this week. It’s Wednesday.”

  “Go to work,” he said.

  My gaze dropped to his crotch. His cock was standing at attention, pointing at the shower wall.

  “Jesus,” I said. “You’re as hard as a rock.”

  “You do that to me.”

  “Fuck me,” I breathed. “One more time before breakfast.”

  He shook his head. “Nope.”

  “Why not?”

  He gestured to toward the open shower door with his eyes. “You need to go to work.”

  I wanted him fuck me so badly it hurt. It had only been thirty minutes since we crawled out of bed, but it seemed like an eternity had passed.

  “I need you to fuck me,” I begged.

  I really did. He could fuck me all day, every day, and I’d never tire of it. It seemed our bodies were made for each other. I’d never imagined sex could be so enjoyable – unless I was by myself.

  “Not going to happen,” he said matter-of-factly.

  “But you didn’t come when we had sex.”

  “It wasn’t about me this morning,” he said. “It was about you.”

  I gestured toward his stiff dick. “I don’t want you to waste that.”

  “It’s not like I’ve only got a certain number of stiff dicks to make it through life,” he said with a laugh. “These things are a dime a dozen.”

  “I’ll take a dollar’s worth,” I said.

  “When you get home from work. I’m not going to contribute to your store’s downfall. No dick for you. Not today, anyway.”

  Water droplets cascaded down along his chiseled torso, driving me wild with anticipation with each inch that they traveled. I scanned his muscular body and shook my head.

  “How’s a guy get a body like that, anyway?”

  “I don’t know,” he said. “I just woke up one day and had it.”

  His modesty was a nice change of pace as well. The few men I’d met that were physically fit could do nothing but talk about the gym, and brag about the amount of weight they could bench. he had yet to tell me he went to the gym, but it was obvious he’d spent a considerable amount fo time doing something.

  “I don’t believe that,” I said.

  He shrugged.

  I noticed his cock had gone half-limp as we stood talking.

  “See,” I said with a nod. “You wasted it.”

  “It’s this easy.” He gripped his dick in his hand and stroked it until it was stiff. “See?”

  I exhaled a slow breath. “That’s hot.”

  “What? Me stroking my cock?”

  My pussy throbbed. “Uh huh,” I murmured. “I want to watch you stroke it.”

  “Can’t stroke it for long, or I’ll…” He shrugged. “You know.”

  I swallowed hard. “I’d pay to see that.”

  He gave me a look. “To see me jack off?”

  I swallowed again, and then nodded.

  “Go put a quarter on the vanity,” he said with a wave of his free hand. “And leave the door open when you go.”

  I had no idea if he was joking, but just for the sake of future conversation, I ran to my room and thrust my hand into the dish I kept my loose change in. After grabbing a handful, I rushed to the bathroom and held one of the quarters in the air, pinched between my thumb and forefinger.

  “I’m ready when you are,” I said.

  He reached for the faucet, turned on the water, and arched his back.

  His bicep muscles flared with each stroke. With one hand resting shower wall just under the control, and the other stroking his cock, he tilted his head upward and closed his eyes.

  Watching him masturbate fulfilled a lifelong dream. With my eyes fixed on his thick shaft, I watched him stroke himself to feverishly. Every few strokes, he’d twitch, and when he did, his abdominal muscles flexed. My eyes darted from his cock to his face and back, scanning his wide chest and torso as they passed.

  His hand worked up and down the shaft of his stiff dick, stroking it fully.

  Clutching a fistful of change between my legs, I cinched my thighs together. I was soaked. My boobs ached. I needed him desperately but knew his stubborn nature wouldn’t allow him to fuck me, especially after saying he wouldn’t.

  So, I wallowed in sexual agony and watched him stroke his stiff cock.

  A
s the water bounced off his taught muscles, up and down the shaft his hand worked, stroking the entire length of his cock from his balls to the swollen tip. After a few agonizing minutes, his speed increased, as did his breathing.

  My pussy throbbed. Steam filled the room, making my state of sexual depravity much less manageable. I watched with hungry eyes as he took a few quick strokes, and then paused.

  A stream of cum shot from the tip of his cock in spurts. He stroked it one more time, and then again, forcing yet another geyser of cum through the air.

  I exhaled, and all but collapsed in the process. The temperature, the steam, his mouth-watering body, and the sheer excitement of it all was simply too much.

  As he washed his amazing body, I slid from the edge of the vanity. He glanced in my direction as I approached the shower door.

  “Happy?” he asked.

  I tossed the entire fistful of loose change into the shower. As the coins rolled around at his feet, I looked at him and grinned. “That ought to be enough for the rest of the month,” I said. “I’ll be in the bedroom when you’re done.”

  His brows knitted together. “In the bedroom?”

  I took a few steps toward the door and paused. “Yeah. You can watch if you want, but it’ll cost you one of those quarters.”

  TWENTY-FOUR - Cash

  Convinced Kimberly was going to be a part of my life – at least until I fucked up – I decided to take her to one of my favorite spots in the San Diego area.

  Sunset Cliffs was a series of coastal cliffs and sea caves that had been carved naturally into a large section of stone that overlooked the Pacific Ocean. I’d done some of my best thinking there and hoped Kimberly could find a way to enjoy the spot’s seclusion as much as I had.

  Standing on the narrow trail that led to the cliff, I pointed toward the limestone overhang and glanced over my shoulder.

  “That’s it,” I said.

  Her eyes widened in surprise. “Oh. Wow. It’s beautiful.”

  “Been sitting on that rock for years,” I said. “Follow me. I think you’ll like it.”

  Five minutes later, we were sitting on the edge of the stone cliff, looking out over the Pacific Ocean.