Authors: Eric Pete

Frostbite (16 page)

BOOK: Frostbite

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Was back at the Holiday Inn near the Superdome, when my phone stirred me from my unintended slumber. Had been listening to some Jill Scott while monitoring Ivan with the hidden cameras I’d installed in his room at the W. When I dozed off, Ivan was in his boxers standing before the mirror, repeatedly drawing his gun at his reflection like some B-movie gunslinger. Cheesy, overacting, and high. But still functional for what I needed him to do.

Call was from Taralynn.

Surprised me as I’d just seen her. Left her at the dance studio before her fellow dance moms started asking questions. Or got too good of a look at me to where they could remember details beyond “he was black and this tall.”

Started not to answer the phone as I looked at the caller ID that read
S. SUMMER,
the name under which I’d stored the number.

Had moved out of the false spot on Delachaise, so she’d never find me.

All I had to do next was ditch the phone and cut off the throwaway number attached to it.

But what if something happened?

My mind raced back to Bricks’s people and the fat one, Ezell. Maybe my job was done for me. But she wouldn’t call me if her husband were dead. Or would she?

Best to find out no matter the reason for the call.

Tried to convince myself it was practical logic and not concern for Taralynn as I caught the call just before it went over to voice mail.

“Where are you?” Taralynn asked.

“Huh ... what?” I responded, still groggy as I sat up in the bed. On the laptop monitor, Ivan was visible in the bathroom this time as he was getting dressed to go out, stopping to admire his abs and check his teeth in the mirror.

“Hold on one second,” I said to Taralynn as I placed her call on mute.

Grabbed another phone off the bedspread and dialed Ivan’s number with it.

“Yo,” he said as I watched him on the monitor. Was almost like Skype. Except he didn’t know he was being watched.

“If you go out tonight, try to do it in moderation.
Capisce?
”

“Yeah, I gotcha, bro.”

“And leave your little friend in the room. I don’t want to hear about you getting popped on Bourbon Street with it.”

“Of course. No worries.”

“And nobody back to the room with you tonight. At least not that room. Remember to scrub it in the morn before you check out.”

“With what this job is paying me, I can accommodate all of that. Now can you stop nagging me?”

I hung up, watching him flipping the bird at the phone on which he’d just spoken.

“Sorry,” I said to Taralynn as I took her off mute. “Thought I heard someone at the door.”

“Where are you?” she repeated, this time irritation apparent in her voice.

“Um ... at my place. I was sleepin’.”

“Bull. I just went by there. By your place on Delachaise.”

Shit.

“Said I was asleep. Probably didn’t hear you,” I said, stifling a fake yawn.

“The elderly woman across the street saw me knocking. She said you didn’t live there. That you left. What’s really going on, Truth?”

Knew I should’ve kept the house on Delachaise a few days longer. But needed to be ready to leave quickly and cleanly.

I began to speak. “Well ... I—”

“Were you evicted?” she asked, cutting me off. It was less a question than it was a declaration of what she knew to be my reality.

My brow furrowed. Then I had to hold back a laugh. “Look ... I’m just going through some living arrangement issues. Nothing to be worried about,” I replied, letting my own mock worry seep and ooze into each statement.

“So where are you? Stop bullshitting me, boy. We go back too far for that.”

“Downtown,” I answered honestly. “And what’s so important?” I asked to shift the conversation away from my living arrangements and to what she really wanted.

“One of the girls turned her ankle and won’t be performing in Boston. The instructor found a last-minute replacement, but some of the roles are being switched to accommodate that change. They’re working it out now, so going to be another long night. I had a moment to spare and was going stir crazy in there, so ...”

“So you wanted to talk some more? Gosh, ma’am. Never thought I was that good a conversationalist,” I playfully jabbed. Wanted Taralynn, as a grown-ass woman of means, to come clean about her undue concern for me.

“Don’t sell yourself short. Your conversation is just what I need. It was crazy luck running into you, Truth. I’ve learned to savor special moments and these few with you ... have been good,” she admitted. Can’t say I wasn’t pleased. “Where are you? If you’re out on the street, I’ll come and get you. Please. Let me do this.”

“Okay. Fine,” I let up. “But I’m not ‘on the street.’ I’m at the Holiday Inn on Loyola. Stopped here just to get off my feet ... while I try to figure things out. They were nice enough to let me chill on a couch in the lobby as long as I minded my own business and didn’t bother the guests,” I said as I rolled my eyes at my own bullshit.

“Sit tight. I just turned on St. Charles. I’ll be right there. Will call when I arrive.”

After hanging up. I hurriedly put back on the clothes I was wearing when I stopped by the dance academy. Took the elevator downstairs with a backpack filled with just the innocuous stuff I was able to cram inside—a few sets of clothes, toiletries, and my laptop.

True to my lie, I found an unoccupied sofa in the lobby and took a seat, making my impromptu home in time for Taralynn’s call.

But rather than calling, she walked in. I guess she needed to see it for herself.

“You surprised me. Thought you were going to call,” I said, pretending not to see her until the last minute. She stood there, already statuesque in height, arms folded.

“Found a parking spot,” she acknowledged.

“If you want to hang out before you go back, we could just sit here,” I said as I shifted my carefully placed stuff around on the sofa to accommodate her.

“And then where are you going to go?” she asked, still not moving. “They’re not going to let you camp out all night, no matter how fine you look.”

“Fine,” I repeated with a nervous laugh. “I’d take
stable
over fine right about now.”

Taralynn looked at her watch again. “Wait here,” she said with a devilish smile.

As I rearranged things in my backpack, Taralynn sauntered over to the hotel’s front desk. Saw her discuss something as I feared she was asking them about my situation. Just my luck that they’d tell her I was a paying customer who had a room. Then I’d have to come up with something again to cover myself.

She talked with the staff person a moment longer before opening her purse and pulling out cash. Thought she was paying him for information before she returned with a room key.

“What are you doing?” I asked.

“What does it look like, Truth?” she asked as she held the key out for me to take. “It’s the key to your room,” she said.

Busted.

“What do you mean my room?” I asked. I’d gotten too cute with my plotting. Now she knew I was lying about being out on the street. Should’ve never let her meet me here.

But I wanted to see her.

“Just what I said. It’s your room, silly. Told you I’d help you out. Just got you a king guestroom for two weeks.”

“Oh,” I uttered, a smile of relief that my paranoia and nerves were wrong. But saw Taralynn had paid cash. She didn’t want to leave a credit card trail of any sort. It felt like something other than just helping out a friend. “Thanks, but I wasn’t asking you to do this,” I said as I perused the key card she’d handed me. The room was on the same floor as mine, but three doors down.

“I know. I called you,” she said smartly. She still wouldn’t join me on the sofa. Just stood there like I was insulting her or something.

“I’m guessing you don’t want to talk down here,” I mumbled, finally getting it.

“You’d be guessing right,” she replied. “Don’t need any scandals ... real or trumped up. You know how this town can be.”

“Say no more,” I joked as I got off my ass and walked with her to the elevator.

We rode up to the eighth floor. Deadly silent as we passed a room for which a corresponding key sat at the bottom of my backpack. As I placed the key in the slot to my new room courtesy of Taralynn, she pressed up against me, her hand caressing my arm.

I didn’t stop or discourage her.

I was letting myself get lost in a different time when two crazy kids acted up over a decade ago. Except this time, instead of saving her future afterward, I would be shattering it.

A sole lamp illuminated the room. I went to turn on the main light switch, but she stopped me.

“You sure about this?” I asked before proceeding farther into the room. There was still time for the adults to win out.

“After you left, the other ladies were talking about how fine you were. Wondering how you might be,” Taralynn’s darkened, tempting form uttered. Could make out a grin. “They said I was behaving more like you were a long-lost lover than my cousin.”

“What did you tell them?”

“I said they were crazy ... and horny.”

“And what are you?”

“Crazy ... horny,” the DA’s wife whispered in my ear, her warm breath assaulting my senses. “What are you feeling?” she asked, a hand brushing against my thigh. Daring to come closer than that.

“That you’re trying to buy me. Take advantage of my misfortune for a good time,” I said as the room door closed completely. The room seemed darker. Like reason was retreating with the light.

“For a good time? Yes, I’d like that. Would like that very much,” she said as she dropped her purse. “But I don’t have much time. I want to feel like your Summer again. Feel what she felt that time on the lake back then. Am I wrong for that, Truth?”

I responded, taking her in my arms and pulling her closer. She gasped as I kissed her down her neck and across her exposed shoulder, biting at it. Her perfume was freshly applied. Alien by Thierry Mugler assaulted my senses as I imagined her in her Mercedes placing it strategically before entering the hotel. The wicked notion drove me crazy; made me want her even more.

Taralynn unbuttoned my shirt, hastily yanking at the last few buttons to get it off me. She kissed my chest, sucking on my nipples as she grasped my shoulders. She had to feel my hard-on through my pants.

But as I cupped her ass, I paused. “I don’t have any condoms on me,” I admitted. So much for being prepared for anything. “Wasn’t expecting this. But I can run downstairs ...”

“No time. I don’t want you ... to leave me,” she hissed as she placed a finger to my lips and nipped at my neck. “But we can still ... do other things,” she offered as she removed the ankle boots which almost brought her to my height.

“Okay,” I agreed, smiling.

I grasped her tunic and pulled it over her head, watching her shaking her hair loose. We kissed again, our tongues feverishly working as I reached around and undid her bra. A bit of modesty crept in from the married woman, Taralynn shielding her breasts from my sight with her hands. I gently moved her hands aside, sucking and caressing each lovely mound as I reached into her jeans. She responded. Undid the buttons on her jeans and stepping out of them one gorgeous long leg at a time. As she stood before me, I could make out the tiny lace trim outline along the top of her thong. A faint piece of fabric highlighting what I’m sure was still a gorgeous pussy.

Beautiful. Vulnerable. Wanting.

“I want to taste you,” I grunted. Watched strong legs tremble with anticipation.

I scooped her up and carried her to the unspoiled bed where I slid off her thong. Lowered myself atop her, starting at her lips, kissing of them succulently to start off my journey down her body. Taralynn’s hands rested atop my head, guiding me over her breasts and down her perfumed stomach.

“Uh huh. Uh huh,” she called out as she felt my breath on her neatly trimmed strip of pubic hairs. Fingers that were along for the ride, gently guiding me before, now gripped my scalp and nuzzled my head between her legs. I inhaled deeply of her natural essence as I plunged my face, my tongue sampling her at first and finding her oh so wet.

I ate her out good, sucking and lapping at her clit while sliding two fingers in and out of her pussy, fucking her with them as I took my thumb and toyed with her asshole. Brought Taralynn to tears on the bed as I camped out between her legs, pleasuring her to climax after climax until my neck began to cramp.

Pushed beyond her limits, Taralynn had me roll onto my back.

“Give it,” she said, motioning toward my dick as she climbed atop my face, smothering me with her delightful pussy as she leaned over and took me in her mouth.

She gripped my dick tightly, clenching it in one hand while caressing my balls with the other. Listened to her humming with each bob of her head, lips sealed just right. Felt shivers as she sucked me like she was trying to draw venom from out of a wound. Then she went sloppy, slurping and gulping on my head, causing me to lose my mind.

I grabbed her ass cheeks, spreading them wide and keeping her pussy situated like so as I tasted and licked every drop of her goodness that dare escape. As she came, her quivering and quaking hips involuntarily drove her even harder against my lips, which were kissing her with an abandon reserved for lovers.

“Ooooh, ooooh. Shit. Fuck. Damn. Oooooh, fawk,” she moaned and cursed, trying to catch her breath as the sixty-nine overwhelmed her. Then she redoubled her efforts on my dick, not one for falling short on her end of our erotic equation tonight.

“Mmm hmm. Let it go. Let it all go,” she demanded as she felt the twitches and shuddering in my pelvis, a storm gathering inside that she’d summoned. As my eruption built up beyond my control, I sucked even harder on her clit. Trying to kill and resuscitate her pussy in the same breath.

“I ... I ...” I stuttered.

Then I felt it in my toes.

The tiny warning before my load exploded forth, slamming inside Taralynn’s mouth. She swallowed it all, sucking me dry and lapping at the remaining cum on my head.

“Oh ... oh my gawd,” she sputtered, rolling off me. Coughing as she tried to catch her breath.

I lay there, totally spent as well. Watching her chest rise and fall in the dark.

And wondering why.

Despite this opportunity presenting itself for recklessness, she didn’t come searching for me just to fuck.

But I decided not to dwell on it. Any more talk might lead unexpected destinations.

Just keep it physical.

Same as where I left it thirteen years ago.

Then she had to leave. Watch she left on her wrist reminding her of duties beyond her most primal pleasure.

She said nothing other than to gather her clothes and go in the bathroom to tidy up, wearily dragging herself out several minutes later and kissing me on the cheek. Told me stay put and to not go downstairs with her lest someone see us together.

I had a vested interest in not being seen with her either, so I remained.

Remained in the room paid for by the woman whose husband I had to kill tomorrow.

But tonight?

Tonight, I would just sleep.

BOOK: Frostbite

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