Charge to My Line

by Lani Lynn Vale

“And what’s that?” He punctuated the question with a twist of his fingers.

  “If you’ll stop fucking around and actually stuff that fat cock of yours inside of me,” I hissed, pulling his mouth up to my face.

  His lips crashed into mine, and he removed his hand, working at his belt, frantically, as he plundered my mouth.

  I heard the crack of something hard hitting the table, but I didn’t pay it any attention as I pushed him forward slightly, ripped my bra over my head, then turned around before bending over.

  Oh so slowly, I pulled my panties over my ass, exposing my readiness to him.

  One large, rough palm slid up the outside of my thigh, and his thick hand slid up to my ass and grasped it.

  I gasped at the feeling, the lips of my sex parting for him.

  “I didn’t ask last time,” he said, touching the tip of his cock to the entrance of my sex. “If you were on birth control.”

  He teased me, giving me just the very tip of his cock before pulling back. Causing my pussy to clench in need.

  “Birth control. Five years now,” I said quickly, not able to get out complete sentences.

  The fat cock of his started to push into me slowly, and I laid my head down on the table, reaching up to grasp the other side with both hands.

  His cock slid into me in one swift push, bottoming out inside of me before he was all the way in.

  “Did you know that your pussy elongates with the amount of arousal felt?” He asked softly, starting to work his stiff dick inside of me.

  I moaned and shook my head, barely able to comprehend anything beyond the feeling of his cock tunneling inside of me.

  “Yep. It sure does,” he said, pulling back and burying his cock into me up to the hilt.

  I panted at the fullness of it all, trying in vain to hold back the tidal wave I felt barreling towards me.

  It was no use, though.

  Once he started moving into me with more swiftness, I was sliding into home.

  The roughness of my hips slamming against the edge of the table with each of his thrusts, on top of the feel of his hands taking large handfuls of my ass and squeezing tight, had my eyes squeezing shut, and a scream of pure, white hot pleasure bursting free from my throat.

  “God, yes!” I screamed.

  His chuckle followed close on the heels of my scream, but I was far from caring.

  His movements picked up, and suddenly my one orgasm turned into the gathering of another as each plunge and retreat of his cock had me on the precipice once again.

  With one last grunt from him, and the feeling of his warm semen pouring into me, I shot off again, moaning my pleasure into the table’s top, going along for the ride.

  His movements slowed after my core stopped clenching uncontrollably around him, and he slowly pulled out, leaving a warm trail of his release to run down my thigh.

  “Holy shit, I don’t think I can feel my legs,” I panted.

  He chuckled and then reached to the side to grab a towel out of the drawer. “Does that mean you won’t cook me breakfast while I’m in the shower?” He asked with a whine.

  Chapter 14

  I feel a sin coming on.

  -T-shirt

  Torren

  Two months later

  “Come take your woman home,” Cleo growled into the phone.

  I looked at my watch, gauging the time and grimaced.

  “I’ve got another fifteen on shift, and then I’ll come get her. What’s going on this time?” I asked, smiling like a dipshit.

  “She won’t get out of my bed,” he answered grumpily.

  I shook my head. “Okay, did Rue pick her up or did she drive herself?”

  Rue and Tru had made fast friends in the past two months and their relationship had grown stronger than in the year they’d know each other. Tru needed it. Especially since Iliana had gotten more and more distant.

  More often than not, Tru stayed over at my place if I was off, and Rue and Cleo’s place if I wasn’t. Very rarely did she stay at her place, and when she went by her apartment, Iliana’s boyfriend was there. And when the boyfriend was there, the piece of shit was there, too.

  Which inevitably had put a strain on Iliana and Tru’s relationship since I sure as hell didn’t want her over there when I wasn’t. Iliana couldn’t understand the problem between the two, finding it hard to choose her long term boyfriend over her long term best friend.

  Not willing to put her into that situation, Tru just stayed away. Only going home long enough to change or pick something up that she needed.

  “Rue picked her up. She’s been here since she got off work over three hours ago.” Cleo growled.

  I suppressed the urge to laugh my ass off.

  Cleo and Rue were still pretty new, only having been married for going on half a year. He was also a flight medic who worked a lot of hours, getting time off so rarely that he wanted to spend it with his woman. Not his woman’s new best friend.

  However, he knew Rue was happy, and he’d do just about anything for her happiness. Even have her friend over when he wanted his wife. Alone. In the bed that they were currently occupying.

  “Okay, well I’ll get there as soon as I can,” I answered, earning myself a grunt of acknowledgement before he hung up.

  However, I knew in the next moment that I’d be an hour and a half at least. And that was if I was lucky.

  Beep. Beep. Beep.

  The tones dropped, and we were up and moving.

  “Medic one. Engine one. You’re needed on East Dam Road. Two vehicle accident. One car reported to be hanging over the side of the bridge,” the dispatcher’s voice called through the radio’s speakers.

  There were two types of calls. Bullshit calls. Ones that are utterly absurd, yet they’re the ones we get three quarters of the time.

  Hangnail on your right finger? Call an ambulance. Oh, you’re chest has been hurting for four days, and you’ve just now decided to call 911…at three in the morning? Or…now this is my favorite…the ones where you get a call and you see the passengers of a wreck walking around, joking and playing. However, as soon as we roll up, they’re suddenly all ‘oh, my back hurts. I need to go to the ER. Do you have any dilaudid?’

  Then there are the ‘oh-shit’ calls. The ones where you hear the dispatcher tell you about them and know instantly that they’re bad.

  Kind of like this one.

  “Fuck,” I spat, getting up and jogging to my bunker gear.

  My feet slid into my boots easily. Years and years of practice putting them on had me doing it out of pure instinct. The act was like second nature.

  Dallas and Sebastian did the same on one side of me, while Corbin and Kettle did the same on the other.

  I was lead medic today, so once I was done, I hopped into the passenger seat of the ambulance and picked up the radio to call us in. “Medic one responding.”

  I looked down at my hand and said a quick prayer as I always did before my calls.

  I wasn’t a religious man, per say, but I believed in God. And any help wouldn’t be turned down right now. Not when I had a feeling in my gut that told me that this call wasn’t going to be pretty.

  We arrive on scene, and my worry was confirmed.

  It was a bad one.

  There were two vehicles involved with the wreck. One large Ford truck was set off to the side, its entire front smashed. Its occupant was standing off to the side with a sweatshirt covering his head.

  The car’s occupants were another matter entirely.

  They weren’t able to get out.

  Mainly because when they moved, the tiny car that’d definitely seen better days, teetered over the edge of the dam, tipping back and forth.

  “We need to get some ropes to stabilize that car. Kettle, grab the straps. Dillon and Corbin, go get some weight on that back end. Torren, wait until they get the stabilization done before you hook up the wench,” Sebastian ordered.

  Each man snapped too, and I walked up to the side
of the car, extending my gloved-hand through the open window.

  “Hi, can you tell me your name?” I said soothingly, trying to calm the frantic woman down.

  “Sar-r-ah. I’ve got three kids in the back,” she pleaded.

  I looked, following her line of sight to see three young children, all young enough to be in car seats.

  Turning back to the woman, ran my hand along her head, checking for any injuries.

  “Can you tell me where you are and what your date of birth is?” I asked calmly.

  Much more calmly than how I felt.

  If this thing went over, it’d be virtually impossible to get them out. I wouldn’t have been so worried if they all weren’t strapped in, confined to their seats and unable to move.

  Which meant one of us would be going in there ourselves to get them out.

  And since I was the smallest at 6’2 and two hundred and twenty pounds, it meant that I would be the one going in.

  “The dam road. 12-22-85,” she answered with her tear filled voice.

  “Alright, Torren. Go get yourself rigged up. Quickly.” Sebastian ordered.

  I left the young woman to the capable hands of my captain and jogged to the truck, quickly slipping into the rigging of belts and safety harnesses next to Kettle.

  Once done, I walked over with the boys, double checking my harnesses.

  “Ready?” Sebastian asked.

  While we were busy getting the harnesses on, another engine arrived, and started stabilizing the vehicle, connecting chains and attaching it to the front wench of their engine.

  Normally, they would’ve been able to wench it all the way back, but the angle at which the car was hanging over meant that all it’d do was put the integrity of the bridge into jeopardy.

  Kettle, who was attached to the front of our own engine with ropes, came up to the very edge of the bridge, threading the length of my rope through his pulley system.

  Once we were attached, he moved back, giving me room to work, and keeping the line taught.

  “Ready?” I asked him.

  He nodded, and I started my entrance into the front of the car through the windshield.

  The car rocked, making hideous groaning sounds as my weight was added to the burden.

  “Steady, it’ll hold.” Sebastian said, staring into the side of the car as he kept his eye on the woman.

  I nodded, punching out the rest of the windshield with a glass puncher.

  The glass fell into a million tiny shards, luckily only landing on the area of space between the back glass and the seat, completely missing the woman.

  My adrenaline was pumping as I moved through the opening I’d made.

  The first thing I did was stabilize each child’s neck.

  Seconds turned into long minutes as I went about maneuvering each kid onto a backboard.

  Even worse, they’d screamed at first, unsure about me.

  I was scary, of course; anything was scary after a crash like they’d sustained.

  After a time, they slowly calmed as they listened to my diatribe about anything and everything I could think of.

  Thirty adrenaline filled minutes later, all three kids were free of their restraints, with their mother, and on the way to the hospital.

  I was riding in the back with them, running my fingers along the youngest child’s hair.

  He was two months old, and the chubbiest baby I’d ever seen.

  “You’re good with him,” the mother, Sarah, said to me.

  I smiled. “He’s sleeping. I’d be interested to hear what you think if he was screaming.”

  She smiled. “True. But you kept them all calm in the car, too. That’s true talent right there.”

  I shrugged it off, but was secretly happy with the praise. It always made me feel good when there was a good ending to something that had the potential to be tragic.

  ***

  I arrived at Cleo’s place exhausted but happy.

  It’d been a long day today, and I wanted nothing more than to lay down on the couch with Tru in my arms while we watched TV.

  Even if it had to be Dancing with the Stars.

  “Shit,” Cleo mumbled once I topped the steps to his house.

  Cleo lived on the Bayou. His house was on stilts; meaning I had to climb half a million steps to get to where I needed to be.

  Embarrassingly, I was winded once I made it to the top of the steps. Although, a lot of that was because I was on the tail end of a minor head cold.

  “Sorry. Got a call as soon as I hung up with you,” I mumbled, dragging ass. “Where’s…Ross.”

  Ross stared at me like he’d seen a ghost. “Y-you’re…what’s…who the fuck?”

  That’d been my sentiments exactly when I’d learned about him the first time.

  What was he doing here?”

  “Ross, this is Torren. Or Grayson Trammel. Grayson, this is Ross Bradley,” Cleo said formally.

  I held out my hand, offering it to my brother.

  He took it with stunned fascination. “You’re my brother.”

  I nodded.

  “Cleo told me, I just didn’t believe him. He just said to come over and see,” Ross said, shaking his head in surprise.

  I turned my eyes to Cleo, silently thanking him.

  I’d been putting this off for too long and, if I had to guess, Tru had a lot to do with this. She’d been encouraging me for weeks now to talk to him, yet I never could.

  He nodded in understanding, and then went inside, closing the door quietly behind him.

  “Cleo’s helpful like that. Did he tell you anything else?” I asked carefully.

  He shook his head. “No. Not really. Told me I had a brother, and that my father wasn’t a part of this chapter, but the one in Tuscaloosa.”

  I nodded, taking a seat on the steps with my back to him. “Yeah, he used to be here, but they needed someone who knew how to run a business venture in Tuscaloosa for a few weeks. He met his current wife there, and hasn’t moved back.”

  Ross’s lips thinned. “He and my mother were never married.”

  “I could explain that a bit,” I said, stretching my legs out in front of me. “From what I’ve learned from pop, he was in a delicate situation. He was married to my mother, but it was an unhealthy marriage. When he met your mother, she wasn’t aware that he was married, and they slept together during one of the many breaks that my parents took…often. They were back on again when your mother told my father he was going to be a daddy, and their on again/off again relationship was history. From that point on, we had a very limited relationship.”

  Ross buried his head in his hands. “My mom’s dead, so I can’t verify any of this.”

  Preaching to the choir, ol’ boy. “So’s mine. Got something in common, there.”

  ***

  Tru

  “Can you hear what they’re saying?” I asked Cleo from my perch on the bed.

  Rue and I were watching Dancing with the Stars, while Cleo scowled at the TV from his position in the recliner.

  “No,” he answered shortly.

  “Nine. Nine. Seven,” Rue said.

  “Eight. Eight. Seven,” I countered.

  “Tens across the board,” Cleo muttered darkly.

  And to our astonishment, the couple got ten’s across the board.

  “What are you doing in here?” Rue asked her husband.

  “They’re on my porch, and y’all are in my bed. Got nowhere else to go,” Cleo mumbled before taking a sip of his beer.

  “You could try the living room. There’s a TV in there and everything,” Rue tried.

  Cleo turned his dark eyes on his wife, and I had the distinct impression I was interrupting something. “I’ll just…go.”

  I slipped out of the room in time to see Cleo prowl across the room to his wife before crawling across the bed like a cat.

  I blushed furiously and practically ran out of the room.

  They’d done it before, but I always felt like I was i
ntruding. I was there quite a bit, but I felt uncomfortable in my own home now.

  Iliana had sent me a text earlier asking if we could talk, and I’d been putting it off in hopes that her boyfriend wouldn’t be there.

  Sighing, I walked out to the front porch instead of the back, leaving the lights off.

  The phone rang twice before Iliana answered. “Hello?”

  She sounded different. And not in a good way.

  “Hey,” I said quietly.

  Iliana sighed. “Hey. I’ve missed you.”

  “I’ve missed you, too,” I replied honestly.

  Well that was a good start, wasn’t it?

  Then it all went to hell with her next statement.

  “Bobby and I are thinking about getting married. And um, well, the thing is…gosh this is hard…”

  “You want me to move out,” I surmised from her hesitation.

  Could I afford a place on my own? I thought I could, but I’d just bought my car. It’d be tight, but I could probably hack it. Not by this weekend, though.

  “Well…yes,” she answered hesitantly.

  My brows bunched. Why was she circling around the answer?

  “Are you okay?” I asked, worry evident in my tone.

  Iliana was not obscure. She said exactly what she felt. She always had. This hesitant person didn’t sound like my best friend.

  “Sure, listen I’m okay. I’ll call you in a couple of days if I don’t see you beforehand. You’ll be able to do something with me this weekend, right?” She asked, unsure.

  I wanted to roll my eyes. Did she think after all this time that I’d blow her off just because of a few rough weeks? She was my best friend.

  “Yes, of course I can. With bells on,” I replied jokingly.

  Her laugh eased the ball of nerves that was gathering in my stomach, but didn’t completely erase it. It only solidified my plan of action, and that was figuring out exactly what was going on with my best friend.

  It wouldn’t be until later the next week that I’d realize that she never called me. Some best friend I was.

  Chapter 15

  Save your breath, bitch. You’ll need it to blow me later.

  -E-card

  Tru

  “Hey, baby. How was…what happened to your eye?” I semi-shrieked.