Naked or Dead

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Naked or Dead Page 15

by Murphy, A. E.


  Mom had to bathe her in tomato soups and purees for about a week. I still joke now that the stench lingers to this day. My sister hates it.

  It disappears into the brush and we all head inside, breathing a sigh of relief.

  “It’s been a while since we came in here,” Joseph comments. “Being old enough to drink means I don’t really need to sit in a shed and drink these days.” He swigs the gin and I kick an empty can of beer across the floor.

  Nok rolls out the blankets and checks them for damp. I sit on a checkered green and black one and lean against the wall, holding my hand out for more alcohol.

  “Strip poker, anyone?” Bobby asks, laughing and throwing a deck of cards in between us all.

  “No,” Nok snaps, sitting beside me and resting his hands over his bent knees.

  “We have to go around the room and say something bad that we’ve never told anyone before,” Joseph suggests, waving a hand flippantly, “I saw it on TV. It looked like a great ice breaker.”

  “Sounds good to me.” Bobby glugs three large gulps of the gin and then belches, doubling over as though about to vomit.

  “Bobby’s confession,” I announce, cupping my hands to my face, “he can’t handle his alcohol.”

  “That’s kinda racist,” Joseph jests.

  I frown. “How is that racist?”

  “Pale faces like to call us alcoholics and say we can’t handle our liquor.” Joseph is the one who explains this and my jaw hits the floor.

  I look around them, waiting for the punch line but it doesn’t come. “Pale faces are assholes.”

  “See? I knew I liked this girl.” Bobby plays music from his phone, not so loud that it’s a burden on the atmosphere. “Right. Who’s going first?”

  “Joseph should,” Nok states, smirking at his friend who has put the light of a flashlight against a glass bottle full of water. It makes the room glow a soothing green, highlighting everybody’s features in a way that makes us all look kind of eerie and animated. “It’s his idea.”

  “Fine, let me think.” He sits and taps his feet on the floor. “When I was twelve, I stole twenty dollars from Elder Gray, because I needed to buy condoms for my babysitter.”

  Bobby starts howling with laughter. “You thought you were gonna fuck your babysitter?”

  Joseph lifts a shoulder, looking proud of the moment. “She was so hot.”

  “I just can’t believe you still had a sitter at twelve,” I comment and Nok laughs in agreement.

  Joseph flips me off and nudges Bobby with a foot to his bent knee. They’re both sitting but Joseph is upright with crossed legs whereas Bobby is leaning back on his hands with his legs spread and bent at the knees.

  “I once broke this ceremonial birthing jug and blamed it on my sister.”

  “That’s a lie,” I combat, raising a brow.

  “Is not,” he responds, raising his chin.

  I laugh. “Did you get away with it?”

  “Umm… yeah, duh.”

  Looking at Nokosi, I raise my nose a fraction, signaling that it’s his turn.

  “No, you,” he instructs.

  I cross my eyes and try to think of something, anything. But nothing comes to mind. In fact, not much of anything comes to mind. I look deep into the recesses of my brain for the memory of a birthday party, or a Christmas with my family.

  My head starts to pound, like a battering ram is hitting it from the inside of the skull. The more I search for information, the worse it feels. How can I not remember anything?

  But then my hand goes to my temple and the tender bruise still there beneath my skin.

  Could the knock to my head have hurt me in such a way that I no longer remember my past?

  “I held a group of men in a gas station at gunpoint and robbed them,” I say quickly, simply to skim over my turn so they don’t look at me so expectantly as I suffer this inner turmoil.

  “No fucking way,” Bobby breathes.

  “She so did,” Joseph states with pride and winks at me. “We were there.”

  “I kicked one of them in the face while they were already down, that’s my confession,” Nokosi adds and cringes after a swallow of the gin. The bottle is a quarter gone already.

  “And you enjoyed it,” I bait and his eyes flicker with the same thrill he felt that night. I see the same shadow in his eyes that I saw then. It’s intriguing and so fucking sexy.

  “How did that happen?” Bobby looks perplexed, terrified, but also impressed.

  “It’s a long story.” I bring the bottle to my lips and pass it off.

  “We have time,” Bobby pleads, his eyes wide.

  We let Joseph tell it because I’m not much of a storyteller and I’m still in turmoil. I shift away from Nok subconsciously, wondering the extent of damage that his tantrum has caused.

  He notices my withdrawal and pulls me back with an arm around me. I lean into him and rest my arm along his thigh.

  I’m being stupid, I’m just tired. It has been a long week… a long year.

  “No fucking way. They just found and confirmed another body!” Bobby cries with excitement after his phone pings. He scrolls rapidly down the screen with his thumb, reading under his breath for a moment. He’s a fast reader.

  “That serial killer guy? The school one?” Joseph asks, moving to look over Bobby’s shoulder as Bobby nods a yes.

  “Bobby has a strange fascination with him,” Nok whispers and bites the lobe of my ear.

  “So does my sister,” I mutter, feeling nauseous. “I don’t like it. It makes me ill and anxious.”

  “Where did this one happen?” Nokosi asks, trailing his fingertips up and down my bicep.

  I try to relax, but how can I? My memories are gone and they’re talking about… I just can’t even think about it.

  “Denver, Colorado,” Bobby replies, even more excited now. “That’s really not all that far!”

  “It’s like a twenty-hour drive,” Joseph says, laughing loudly.

  “Road trip.”

  “You’re vile,” I state, shaking my head with judgment. “How can you be so blasé about death?”

  “It’s interesting.”

  “It could be you.”

  Bobby and Joseph look at each other, excitement evident once again. I roll my eyes but can’t stifle a small laugh at their expressions. These are the kind of people who go looking for danger. We’re more alike than I thought.

  “Do they have any evidence pointing to who it might be?” Nok asks the question I too was thinking.

  “Not that they’ve said. Apparently, suspects have been arrested and released.” He clicks his fingers. “I personally believe that it’s not just one person, I believe it’s many.”

  “Many killers?” Joseph asks his enthusiastic friend, gulping the gin like it’s water. I follow suit, cringing when the liquid touches my lips.

  “Yeah, like maybe it’s just a bunch of jilted girlfriends trying to throw off the cops?”

  I roll my eyes at their conspiracy theories and drink more alcohol. I’m feeling buzzed already, but not so much that I can’t control myself. Though I don’t let Nok know that. I want him to think I’m thoroughly intoxicated.

  I press my lips to his, eager to forget this night in his touch. He kisses me back, growling when I hold tight to the front of his shirt.

  My sister comes to mind, her concerns that he might hurt me. She spoke of it again this morning and I know she’s wrong. I know that I was wrong about him.

  Sure, he’s a bit of an asshole, but is he so much an asshole that he would hurt me if given the chance?

  “I think,” I mutter against his lips and hiccup convincingly, “that I’m a lil bit drunk.”

  He grins and holds out his hand for the bottle, closing his strong fist around the neck. “Then I should catch up.”

  I kiss his sweet, cherry gin lips and then taste it on his tongue with mine.

  “What is that devious mind of yours concocting?” he whispers as his frien
ds laugh and joke about murder mysteries and reservation police and how they’d all protect themselves like olden times. We shut them out, letting our eyes pass the communication between us.

  “How we can get rid of them,” I whisper and guide the bottle to my lips.

  The drunker he thinks I am, the better.

  “Boys,” Nok yells suddenly, his eyes on mine, pupils dilated with arousal.

  They both fall silent and look at us.

  “Leave,” he barks and sucks my lower lip into his mouth.

  They laugh as they go, taking the rest of the gin with them, wishing us good fun and good fucks. Little do they know.

  I fall backwards onto the blanket the moment the door closes and stretch like a contented cat.

  Nokosi kneels at my feet, circling my ankles with his hands. It’s a warming feeling and I moan when he starts to massage my calves, getting higher and higher with each stroke of his fingers. When he reaches my skirt, which stops above my knees, he drags it upwards baring my flesh and the triangle of my black thong.

  His breath becomes ragged when I sit up slightly, letting my hair fall around my shoulders as I lean on my elbows and let my knees part.

  “Rip it,” I breathe, looking into his amazing eyes. The pupils expand, showing his arousal right as his hands grip the lace-covered fabric and pull it apart where my hip dips.

  His smile is one of masculine approval and he makes quick work of the other side.

  And then, when I’m free of the cloth that hides my sex, I part my knees again slowly and show him all that I am. The cool air hits my wetness making me shiver with excitement.

  He watches as I push my own fingers between my lips and circle them over my clit. I have courage from the alcohol that I would not have otherwise. Well, that’s not entirely true, but I wouldn’t be so quick to part my thighs for a man I only like when it suits me and not because I think he’s worth liking.

  With eyes flickering from my gaze to my pussy, he lowers his head until I can feel his hot breath warming my sex. He kisses my thighs before he finally kisses me there and forces my hand away.

  I breathe his name, not the shortened version. I want him to know that he’s all I’m thinking about as his skillful lips and tongue dance me through a version of ecstasy that I have never experienced in my life.

  He pushes a finger into me, just one as he dines on me so perfectly.

  I almost squeeze his head with my thighs and have to force my hips to remain still. I want to buck against him, I want to press his face harder against me, but I fear I might lose what I’m feeling if I move even a fraction.

  My back lowers to the ground and I stare at the shadows cast across the low ceiling of the shed.

  My breathing is staggered and difficult to maintain the closer I get to the edge.

  I hum and moan, letting him know I’m enjoying every swipe and swirl of his tongue as my sex holds tight to his finger. I almost wish it were thicker. But not that. Not tonight.

  My orgasm shatters me.

  Shatters me.

  I cry out so loud, unable to control myself that I have to bite my hand to try and stifle it.

  It pulses and burns, even as it dissipates, and he stops what he’s doing to crawl up my body. His cock trails against my thigh, leaving a bead of precum as he goes.

  I close my eyes gently as he ascends me. It’s not hard to feign sleep when you’ve had a drink but all I really want to do is pull him on top of me and guide his cock into my throbbing sex.

  “Hey,” he whispers and laughs a little.

  I let out a soft snore and feel him tense above me, resting on one arm as he pushes my hair back from my face.

  “Lilith,” he hisses, tapping my cheek with his fingers. I let it loll to the side. “Are you seriously fucking sleeping right now?” He taps me slightly harder. “LIL.”

  I let out a groan and let my leg drop. He lifts my hand and releases it. Dead weight. I’m good at this. I kind of want to laugh but I’m obviously not going to.

  Although I nearly do when I think about it.

  “Fuck,” he breathes, and I feel his breath fan across my lips. But then he yells, “LILITH!” While shaking my shoulders. “Are you shitting me? Again? Fuck blue balls. Fuck.”

  I feel him hesitate and I wonder if he’s thinking about it. Wondering how easy it would be to just push his cock into my body, all open, wet, and ready for him. He drops onto me for a moment, taking most of his weight on both arms. I can feel him between us, trapped between his thigh and mine.

  My womb quivers at the thought of him taking what he needs, and when he stands and yanks down his jeans I start mentally cheering. Not because I want him to do anything, but if he does, I was right all along and this will all be over soon. This game I’m playing.

  I hear his jeans hit the floor; I hear him kick off his boots. It takes everything to not open an eye and watch him.

  He’s going to do it. He’s going to rape me. Or he’s going to try. I’ll never let him get that far.

  I wait a moment to see what he does. I’m not the type to jump to conclusions, I’ll give him until the very last second before I stop him.

  His hands pull on my ankles and then I feel soft fabric hook over my feet.

  What the fuck is going on?

  He tugs something up and up until he forcefully pulls it over my rear and it’s covering me completely. His boxers… he’s put me in his boxers. Because he ripped my thong… so he’s covering me.

  WHAT THE FUCK? This isn’t right. This wasn’t supposed to be how this went.

  Then he pulls up his jeans and fastens them I assume because I don’t hear much for a while.

  “You absolute lightweight,” he grumbles and then he’s awkwardly lifting me into his arms. First in a cradle carry which I help with by wrapping my arm around his shoulders and sighing into his neck.

  Ironically, because of how safe and comfortable I now feel, I pass out. I have no idea how he gets me home.

  The sun is shining from a tiny gap in the curtains, casting a strip of yellow light onto the wall that cuts down a calendar on January’s model. A sexy woman with thick blonde hair sitting naked on a motorbike.

  How teen boy of him. I smile to myself.

  The quilt that protects me from the chill is dark green with black stripes, and the pillow is gray. It all smells clean and fresh like a flowery meadow. I smile and stretch languidly, sitting up when I hear a door downstairs close.

  I’m still in yesterday’s clothing, minus my skirt and thong as Nokosi put me in his boxer briefs last night. I check my body for injury but I’m otherwise okay, no worse for wear.

  The room is empty, the space in bed beside me undisturbed, but then I notice a lump on the floor at the foot of the bed on what looks to be a futon mattress. Nokosi has his hair tied into a bun on the very top of his head and he’s lying on his back, mouth open, eyes closed, breathing softly.

  He was a gentleman last night in a way no man has ever been a gentleman to me before.

  He helped me home, he helped me brush my teeth in the bathroom, he tucked me in and kissed my lips and then climbed into his own makeshift bed because he didn’t want to take advantage, despite the fact I asked him to join me.

  I thought I could entice him again, trap him again, put him in a position where he has to deny himself what I know he so badly wants. But he wouldn’t even get in with me.

  I really have gotten him all wrong.

  I climb out of bed and sit on the edge of his. My knees sink into the soft mattress and my hand automatically goes to the tattoo that wraps around his bicep.

  He’s gorgeous. He could be a model he’s so pretty to look at.

  I touch his lower lip with my finger and feel the soft flesh twitch, then I trail it across the slight stubble of his jaw.

  He hums a groan and shifts slightly, just enough for me to free the blanket and peel it down his body to his waist. I slide in beside him and press my cold feet against his.

  He yelp
s and his eyes spring open to find mine.

  “Morning,” I whisper and circle his nipple with my fingertip. It tightens to a hard dark pebble.

  He smiles lazily. “Morning, lightweight.”

  Giggling, I bury my face in his neck and hook my leg around his hips. “I’m so sorry about last night.”

  “Wait… what?”

  “Huh?”

  “Did you just say sorry?” He feigns surprise as I lean over him again to glare at him. “Can you say it again, just give me a sec to find my phone and record this moment.”

  I grab his dick and squeeze, but it only seems to excite him.

  “What time is it?” he breathes as I move my hand over his hard, boxer-clad length. It’s like steel and just the feel of it is making me drip with need.

  “No idea.” I kiss down his chest, startling him, and trace the contours of his pecs with my tongue.

  “My dad will walk in, we have school,” he hisses but his eyes are wide with lust and excitement.

  I yank his boxers down and take him into my mouth, salivating even more when he cries out from the pleasure.

  My head bobs, my lips tighten, I suck him deep and swallow around the head. He mutters curse word after curse word and his hand goes to my hair.

  He starts bucking against me, desperate for release and even though I teased him last time and didn’t let him come, he doesn’t hold me down.

  I release him, letting him pop from my mouth and his pleading eyes come to mine. He looks as desperate as I feel.

  I push the boxers I’m wearing down, turning around so I can kick them off, then I straddle him.

  “What are you doing?” he asks on a whisper as I hover above him.

  “Fucking you,” I reply and poise him at my entrance. I’m wet and ready but still have to roll my hips. He’s got girth, a lot of it and I’m not used to it.

  “JESUS… FUCK!” he cries out, squeezing his eyes shut and writhing beneath me as his hands grip my hips. He pushes up unable to control himself, sinking into the hilt, making us both cry out but me in particular because that stung a bit. I wasn’t expecting that.

 

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