In To Her

by JA Huss

  Her light-brown shirt matches her boots. The front is cropped at her waist, embroidered darts that pull the fabric into a tight, slim fit, accentuating how tiny she is. There’s a tail of cream-colored lace that falls over her ass like a peekaboo curtain.

  I grind my hips into the curve of her ass just above her thighs, but lean my chest back just enough to take in this view.

  Logan catches my eye as I do this and he’s gone.

  There’s no stopping him once he gets started. We both know this. So the look in his eyes is defeat, and acceptance, and hunger all in one glance.

  Oh, yeah, I think. This is gonna be fun.

  It’s been a while since we tag-teamed a girl. We used to do it a lot back when we worked together more often, but that was before he got promoted.

  I’ve missed him and from what I can tell, he’s missed me too. He just hides it better.

  A laugh escapes my mouth and I just grin like a man who got lucky while he wasn’t looking.

  Logan is unbuttoning her shirt. And there is a shit-ton of buttons so it takes forever. But I just watch them as they continue to kiss—their tongues hungry, their lips glistening with each other’s saliva—and picture what her mouth will look like when it slides over the tip of his cock.

  Finally he opens her shirt and it’s my turn. I drag my hands up the curve of her hourglass shape, reach around, and fondle her breasts. Squeezing hard, then easing up, then squeezing hard again.

  They stop kissing and Logan takes a step back so he can watch. It’s like we’ve been doing this forever and didn’t drift apart over the last couple years. Every move choreographed. Every reaction anticipated.

  I grind harder on her, my cock swelling bigger, and bigger. And I’m not gonna pretend that Logan has nothing to do with that. I’m tired of pretending.

  So I lean forward again, taking my lips to Yvette’s neck, and kiss her while I watch my friend watch me.

  She moans, whispers something like, “No, no, no…”

  “If you say that,” I hiss, “you better mean it. Because we’ll walk away right now.”

  I don’t get a reply, but Logan’s eyes dart downward, meeting her gaze. And he grins a little, so I guess I don’t really need an answer.

  I let go of one of her breasts and reach for him. Hook my hand around his neck, and pull him towards her mouth.

  He doesn’t fight me. Just kisses her passionately.

  I lean forward a little more, allowing myself to stand fully erect, and get in on this action.

  My lips touch the corner of her mouth and she turns her head to meet me, her tongue swiping over my lip.

  And then Logan’s mouth touches mine too and this… this is the part that sends me over the edge.

  He kisses me and her at the same time.

  The best part of fucking girls with your best friend is sharing.

  I grip his hair hard, forcing the kiss to become urgent. Yvette’s breathing becomes erratic as I continue to grind against the small of her back. She’s shorter than me by several inches, but when I look down she’s on her tiptoes, the thick, high heels of her boots in the air so she can reach us both.

  What must she be thinking?

  I don’t care.

  I’ve wanted her for a long, long time. Long before we found her up in these mountains two weeks ago. Long before we put this plan together. And I always knew Logan would meet me halfway if we ever got this far.

  We’ve had so much fun together. There’s no way, once we started, that he’d pass up this second chance.

  And she’s the perfect girl too.

  One night. Wham, bam, never gonna see you again, lights out, thank you, ma’am kinda night.

  One night. That’s all we get. One night to fuck her brains out together.

  And then put it all behind us.

  So you can damn well bet I’m not gonna waste a second of this.

  I reach for Logan’s pants, undo the buckle, then the button, and unzip him. I take her hand off his waist, where it’s been passive for too long, and slip it down in his pants. She squeezes him from the inside as I squeeze him from the outside.

  “AJ,” he cautions me.

  “Fuck you,” I say. Because I lied. It’s too late to say no. For either of them.

  This shit is a done deal.

  I pull the front of his pants down, giving her more access, and then, without me even telling her, she pulls his cock out and begins to slowly jerk him back and forth.

  My attention is on step two now. Her pants. There’s no way to get those boots off her legs without a major time-out, so fuck that. This chick is getting the half-dressed fuck whether she likes it or not.

  The music changes again, this time to a faster, upbeat, country tune, and our bodies respond in kind.

  Her cock-jerking becomes more urgent and my desire to get my dick inside her takes over. I walk her backwards, popping the button on her jeans and dragging her zipper down as I go, and stop when I’ve backed into a table.

  Her jeans are tight, so it takes me a good thirty seconds to work them down over her hips to the middle of her thighs.

  I’m gonna fuck her on that table. But not yet.

  Logan is lagging a few steps behind, coming along because she never let go of his dick.

  I know he’s having second thoughts. I know he’s thinking, Do I want to do this again? Do I really want to start this shit up again?

  But I just don’t care. He will do it. I know how to make him do it.

  The palm of my hand finds the top of her head and I push down, urging her to kneel.

  She does it, protesting slightly. “I don’t know, I don’t know…”

  But it’s too late.

  That time has passed. And she must realize this because she looks up at Logan, two-fisting his cock now, and leans forward.

  This is one of my favorite moments when Logan and I tag-team. The look on the girl’s face when she gives in—or maybe just gives up—and decides she’s gonna suck him off. She’s gonna turn into my little slut. She’s gonna do everything I tell her. She’s gonna become my little toy and there’s nothing she can do to stop it now.

  Logan presses forward like he’s on autopilot. And I think to myself, Do I know this guy, or what?

  I lean to the side a little, not wanting to miss the moment, and catch a glimpse of her just in time. Just as she opens her mouth and places it over him. Over the center of his cock. She lifts her chin, ducking underneath his dick a little, and drags her wet lips down the front of his shaft.

  Logan closes his eyes, his jaw clenching. Because she did it perfectly. She did it just the way he likes it.

  “Good,” I say. “Very nice.” Encouraging her with words as I begin to rock her head back and forth, dragging her mouth up and over the tip of his cock, then back down the front of his thick, long shaft.

  Her hands have stopped, momentarily forgetting what she was doing. But I help her. I reach for him, wrap my hand over hers, and we jerk him off together. Slowly at first, as she finds the rhythm, and then faster. I step fully to the side now, willing to put my own needs second as we take care of Logan first, and use my other hand to grip her hair tight.

  She knows what’s coming because she takes a deep breath, opens her mouth wide, and lets me shove him down her throat.

  I force her until she gags, but instead of easing up, I whisper, “Shhhh… just relax. Just follow my lead.” And because I’m a good guy and I like to help, I start counting. “One,” I say. “Two,” I say. “Three…” And when I get to five, I yank her off him.

  She gasps for breath, choking as saliva drips over her plump, pink lips and lands on her chin.

  Logan groans, reaching for her again. And I know that I’ve won. I know he won’t turn back now.

  But I’m nothing if not considerate. I’m nothing if not a helper. So I do it again. Only this time I force her to the count of ten.

  She almost throws up when I lift her off Logan’s cock, but holds it together. Her eyes
are watering, her make-up starting to smear down her face.

  Logan is almost beside himself. He looks at me like… Dude…

  Because even though when it comes down to which one of us is the bigger threat here, it’s hands-down him—I am a force in my own right. In my own way.

  So I look at him and just smile as I push her head back down and force her to the count of twelve.

  She pulls off this time, gagging and choking, saliva dripping down the front of her chest until it disappears into her bra.

  Such a little slut.

  But I already knew that before we walked in.

  I saw it all in my head. I saw the drinks, I saw the look of fear flash before her eyes, even though it was fleeting. I saw the dance, and the way she joined in. I saw Logan, meeting me halfway. I saw her on her knees. I saw his cock in her mouth. I saw the choking and gagging.

  I saw it all.

  And I knew she’d be up for this. I knew.

  Because even though I might be a stranger to Yvette Nightingale…. she’s no stranger to me.

  I know a lot about this woman.

  That’s why we’re here.

  What she knows of us, what she thinks of us, what she feels for us—won’t matter in a few hours.

  Because she’ll be dead.

  Chapter Three - LOGAN

  AJ and I have been stalking Yvette Nightingale for two weeks under the direct supervision of our boss, Damon Dell’Ariccia. And regardless of how good we are at our job, sometimes it sucks.

  Not because we’re going to kill her after we’re done fucking tonight, but because I hate the fucking mountains.

  I get it. Some people like nature. Some people like mountains, and snow, and the great outdoors. I like that shit too. Sometimes. But not here. It took me three days to get past the altitude sickness. Fucking headaches, fucking heavy breathing, fucking dizziness. And that whole time I had binoculars pressed to my face watching from afar. Or I was hiking up the goddamned hillside out back of this bar. Or AJ was making me ski with him like we were on vacation and not out on a hit.

  And now this fucking snow.

  I don’t know how people live up here. It’s a goddamned nightmare.

  Damon called earlier today and gave us the go—since it’s now abundantly clear that this Yvette chick isn’t hiding the thing we thought she was hiding, so her usefulness in our little operation is over.

  I just wanted to sit outside in the truck, wait for the tourists to go home, and then maybe—maybe—have a drink before we pulled the trigger.

  And now where am I?

  Yvette fucking Nightingale has my cock down her throat.

  AJ lets her know that he doesn’t like quitters while I’m musing on how we got here.

  “Give it another go,” he says.

  And she does.

  Maybe willingly. Maybe not. Maybe she sees the trap she fell blindly into. Dancing. I actually roll my eyes. He hasn’t used that one in a long time.

  At least I don’t think so. This is the first hit we’ve been on together in almost two years. So who knows, maybe he’s the country boogie king of dive mountain bars. I have no clue.

  But even if she doesn’t yet realize our steel trap just clamped down on her ankle, she’s well on her way to scared. I can see it in her eyes as she looks up at him.

  Will we rape her?

  That’s her question.

  The answer is no, of course. She’s going to agree to all of it. AJ will make sure of that.

  “Good,” AJ says, when she keeps my cock deep in her throat for the count of fifteen.

  Practice makes perfect.

  I actually laugh a little at that.

  “Bored?” AJ asks.

  “No, I’m good,” I say.

  He leans in, wraps his hand around the back of my neck, pulls me closer to him, and then puts his mouth right up to mine.

  I let him. Not because he’s the one who calls the shots in this little partnership, just because I want to.

  Hey, if this Yvette wants to go out sucking cock, who am I to object? I might as well enjoy the part I have to play.

  We’re gonna leave here tonight with her body, dump it over the side of a ravine we scouted out last week, and clean up any evidence with the help of my friend Manny—no thanks to Damon. Fucker insisted we didn’t need a clean-up team, this was too simple. But I dot all my i’s and cross all my t’s, so I called up Manny myself and have him on standby anyway.

  After that’s all done, I’ll go back to the real world again.

  I can’t wait.

  But AJ is fun. We’ve been friends for a long time and this is our last job together because he’s next on my hit list.

  We’re gonna look over the side of that ravine, watch Yvette’s body tumble down like a sack of flesh, and then I’m gonna back up, pull out my gun, and shoot him in the back.

  Hopefully he pops over the side all by himself, but if not. Whatever. I’ll just push him.

  It occurs to me that I might be evil.

  I kiss AJ harder because I’m gonna miss him. I slip him a little tongue and think about all the good times we’ve had over the years. All the girls we fucked just like this. All the times we got drunk, and danced, and didn’t kill the girl once we were done.

  Sometimes we even stayed the night with them. Once we played house for a whole weekend. Woke up and made breakfast, took her shopping, had a nice dinner, and fucked her brains out for another night before we left.

  Good times.

  But Damon doesn’t have the same fond memories as me.

  My eyes open and my gaze wanders around the bar. It’s got a mountain retreat look to it. Exposed beams running the length of the flat, ten-foot ceiling. Unfinished pine tables and chairs. And a few of those seating areas with strategically placed mismatched furniture you see in city coffeeshops.

  I wonder what’ll happen to this bar when she’s gone?

  “Dude.” AJ laughs as we continue to kiss.

  “What?”

  “Come back here, man. Just… stop fucking thinking.”

  I wonder how he’d act if I was his hit instead of the other way around?

  Nah. That’s so stupid.

  AJ is loyal to a fault. He’d kill Damon before he ever killed me. That’s why he has to go. Well, that and the half a million dollars that went missing six months ago.

  But he’s a true friend, as they say.

  “Stand up now, darlin’,” AJ says, pulling Yvette up from her knees by her hair.

  She’s breathing hard, her face is a mess of streaked black mascara, and she’s looking all over the room. Anywhere but at AJ or me.

  Oh, yeah. She knows. She realizes her mistake.

  Been on the run for a very long time. She made it pretty far too. Took Damon years to finally catch up with her. She was good. Careful. Probably suspicious of everyone for good long time.

  And yet… tonight… she just falls for AJ.

  Why, Yvette?

  I’m so curious about that.

  Why now? Why him? Why us? Why are you standing here in front of me, half naked, your own spit dripping down your chest because you took my cock deeper than you ever took a cock before?

  Why?

  I’m gonna ask her, I decide. Get the reason before we off her. I just need to know. Because even though AJ has always been a charmer, he’s not any better than me. He’s not better looking than me, he’s not nicer than me, that’s for sure.

  So he’s loyal?

  That’s not the reason. She doesn’t know he’s the kind of guy who’d mow down a whole crowd of people if it was the only way to save a friend’s life.

  So why, Yvette? Why did you take his hand and dance with him?

  You should know better.

  Why did you let him do this to you when you’ve been so very, very careful in the past?

  I bet she’s wondering the very same thing right about now.

  AJ looks at me. “Let’s give you something else to think about, OK?”
>
  I smile at him. Because even though AJ hasn’t been a good friend to Damon, he has been a good friend to me, and thinking about how he’s not gonna be around after tonight is a little bit sad.

  He turns Yvette slowly. She’s wobbly and it’s clear she’s not OK. “Are you drunk?” I ask her.

  But instead of answering, she leans up on her tiptoes and kisses AJ on the mouth.

  He grins through it, kissing her back, his hands wandering down to her ass. And when they break apart he says, “Bend over,” in that growly, seductive voice he likes to use during sex. “Logan wants you to show him your pussy.”

  Yvette shoots me a look over her shoulder, grins crookedly and licks her lips.

  She is drunk. Totally drunk. How did I miss that earlier?

  But she follows directions. Kinda like she’s on autopilot. And there’s no chance I don’t glance down and look at her pussy lips peeking out from the bottom of her ass. It’s sexy. Both the way she bends over and the way the waistband of her tight jeans cuts into her thighs as she tries to spread her legs.

  I raise my eyebrows. Because while not all girls have a pretty pussy, this one does.

  I reach down with my fingers and slide them back and forth across her wet folds.

  This makes her moan.

  AJ is leaning against a table, fisting her hair as he slowly lowers her mouth down over his cock. “Try a little harder now, OK?” he says, holding her face against his stomach, practically suffocating her.

  She struggles, trying to pull back. But I begin playing with her clit to take her mind off the war waging in her throat.

  AJ reaches some predetermined threshold and lifts her up off his cock. She comes up gasping for breath. Inhaling deeply.

  He likes this part. I remember that much. He likes it when he’s got them a little bit scared. Ready to say, No more. He wants to hear that, actually. He likes it when they protest.

  And then he’ll stop, like he is now. And wait. Like he’s patient, when he’s not. It’s all just part of his plan.

  “Done?” he asks her.

  Which is my cue, I realize. And I almost miss it. My cue to shove my cock in her pussy so she’ll want more. So she’ll say yes.

  He wants to hear a no but the win is when he gets a yes instead.