Motown Showdown (12 page)

“I’m going to take you,” he says lifting my chin and holding it in place, so our eyes connect. “And when I do, you do not break this connection, you watch me, I watch you, got it?”

“Got it,” I nod trying to get back to this blowjob. But, he had other ideas, like talking…

“Ever fuck with feelings before?”

“No.”

“Me either,” he says getting serious. “Wanna see what it’s about?”

“Yes,” I say hoping his hands start working once his mouth stops.

“Good answer,” he says reaching for me. But then his speech got me thinking, and it wasn’t the warm and fuzzies. It was that this could blow up in my face, destroy us, destroy
me,
if it didn’t work out. Fantasies are fun because it’s about the what ifs, the if onlys. I may play in a man’s world but I think and feel like a woman, so casual with Gage would not work with me. I didn’t want to lose my friend over this. And I certainly couldn’t go back to following him, watching him with other women if this didn’t work out either.

“Hey, Gage?”

“Yeah, beauty?”

“We do this; it changes things.”

“I know,” he whispers and it’s when his eyes soften that my doubt falls away. “It’s going to change
everything
.” Sucking in a breath he continues, “I’ll make this good for you,” he promises, and I had no doubt that he would,
eventually
. “You need to understand that this is it, that it’s us now. No other man ever touches you.”

“No other woman ever touches you either,” I say right back. Too many already have as it is and trust me I know where every one of those bitches sleep too. It’s a miracle that I didn’t whack them all when I was premenstrual.

“I find out he does, he dies.”

“Ditto,”

“Good, now beauty?” he says pushing me down to my knees. “Jack me.”

With his hands still on the wall, his dick in my face with his hot breath all around me, I did exactly that. He wanted this, needed it and I was desperate to give it to him. I wanted to be better than those that came before me. Latching on, I find my rhythm and as he tenses and groans, I lean in and suck his balls into my mouth.

“Fuck!” he yells out pushing his weight down on me. I had one nostril that allowed airflow so I wasn’t complaining and when he started chanting Hail Marys; I wanted to pat myself on the back. “Pull back, beauty,” he orders me and slowing down I start to pout about it. I was killing that blow job, and now it’s… “Your stomach is still tender,” he says helping me to my feet. Stomach? I have a stomach? “So I’m going to ask you to---”

“If you ask me to wait until I’m healed, I will cut you,” I ground out.

“Ride me,” he finishes pulling me back to the bench. “I’ll do all the work, but I don’t want you hurting when I take you.”

“Ride you,” I repeat. “You want me to ride you.”

“And I’ll do the lifting,” he says pulling me over to straddle him. “But I need that pussy,
now
.”

“Baby,” I pretend to pout while I climb on, “You’ve got this all wrong.”

“Camo---” he tries, losing patience with me.

“See,” I tell him reaching for his dick again now that we’re seated, “I
like
working. In fact, some might call me a cockaholic.”

“Are you gonna sit on this dick or what, beauty?”

“Oh, I’m going to do more than sit on it,” I offer beginning my descent. “I’m going to
own
it.”

“Wait,” he says anchoring my hips. “I wanna watch, go slow.”

With the patience I didn’t even know I possessed I went slowly. The problem was I was desperate and needed him inside of me. Guiding me by my hips and holding onto his shoulders, inch by inch I slid down and felt my body make room for him. When both knees were firmly balanced on the wood, we stayed like that unmoving. Both of us were hanging on by a thread, but we needed this moment to savor. Gage was inside of me, stretching me; I was finally his.

“Nice ‘n tight,” he says tightening his grip. “Now get to work.”

Excitement stole the words from my mouth, so I chose to keep it closed unless it was kissing him. With our bodies attached, eyes locked, and our mouths inch apart he was the first to cave. The second his lips touched mine; I detonated. Starting with a slow grind, I work us both up before I raise myself and begin to bounce. Taking his instructions which were, “Bounce, beauty,” and “Harder,” followed by, “Slow,” then finally his breaking point, “Fuck my dick,” I did all those things and I did them well. Don’t hate on an over achiever!

“Gonna come,” he says into my neck.

“Now,” I order him as I tighten up. Leaning back so I can look down and watch, he uses one hand to rub my clit, and it went from him going to come to my coming immediately. Crying out I arch back taking his upward thrusts while continuing to bounce. When it ended, and my thighs revolted, I sunk back down and fell to his shoulder.

“That was fucking beautiful,” he says still fucking me, just softer now.

“Mhmm,” I agree getting sleepy then snap myself out of it. “Finish me on my back,” I ask moving from the bench. Helping him up, he crowds me first then lifts me up only to lay me on the couch.

“Open up,” he says making himself a place between my legs. “And let me in.”

Sliding between my legs his dick has no trouble getting in. Raising his arms above my head, he moves slow but sure. Wrapping my legs around his back I keep my word and don’t break our connection. The longer we stay like this, the more intense it gets. No grunts, no moans, and no dirty talk either. Just him and me taking pleasure from each other on Rome’s dead grandmother’s couch.

It was fucking perfect.

“Beauty,” he says with so much tenderness I almost cried but, then he starts to tense and I know it’s time.

“Come hard for me,” I urge him and when he did, he never broke the connection and quietly said, “Camo,” as it happened. I had waited my entire adult life for this moment. So when he wrapped his arms around me in a protective hug, I let one tear fall.

“You ever going to settle down, son?” This from my dad, Dick.

“One day,” I admit. “I just haven’t found her yet.” Not true. I know who she is, she found me, I just haven’t met her in person, and that sounded fucked, even to me.

“You’ll know when you do,” This from my dad, Peter.

“I have no doubt.” Which was not true either. I had a million of them.

Camo had to be a bad cook, suck at sewing or at least hate kids because now I could add sex to the list of things she excelled at. She was good at everything but the sex… holy shit.

She was born to fuck. She was made to fuck me.

And if I had any doubt if she was born for me that question was answered too. Lying here with her curled up next to me I thought of a million questions I wanted to ask, so I started with the one that bothered me the most.

“How old are you?” I throw out while I play with her tits.

“Twenty-four,” she says like a content kitten.

Doing the math in my head that meant… “You said you started the wire when you were eighteen?”

“That is correct.”

“That was six years ago.”

“Correct again,” she says kissing my chin.

“You’ve been watching out for me since you were a teenager?”

“I prefer legal adult.”

“You were a kid,” I argue and then all of the unnecessary hurt I threw her way threatened to choke me. “A fucking kid!”

“Oh stop,” she says sitting up. “I have never been a ‘kid’, if it makes you feel any better I had lots of sex with guys older than you when I was jail bait.”

“What!” I growl pulling her to face me. “I’m thirty, Camo; you were fucking guys older than me when you were a kid?”

“Okay, let’s back up a bit,” she says putting her hands up. “Postcoital bliss clearly isn’t your thing so let me start over since you ruined mine. I meant I was already having sex with guys a smidge older than you were
then
. I didn’t start on the guys in their thirties until…”

“Do not,” I say gripping her hips. “Finish that sentence.”

Gesturing that she zipped her lip, she pretended to throw away an invisible key, and it was fucking cute. Settling back down was damn near impossible. That fucker Digger was lodged in my brain before but now I’m thinking of hundreds, thousands of John Does banging my woman. “Gage?” she asks quietly.

“Yeah, beauty?”

“Tonight was the best night of my life.” She says closing her eyes and the truth was it was the best night of mine too. And falling asleep with Camo snoring (loudly) in my ear was the highlight.

“The day you get your hands on that boy,” Bobo laughs. “He won’t stand a chance.”

Smiling wide, I didn’t deny it. Why should I? He didn’t. Stand a chance, that is.

Remember that part in Twilight when Edward and Bella became ‘an item’ then showed up for school with his arm around her shoulder showing her off? Okay well, that didn’t happen to me perse, but what did happen was Gage became handsy and bossy(er).

Yesterday after waking up with my face stuffed in Gage’s arm pit, we turned a corner. He looked at me with ownership, spoke to me as a partner and couldn’t stop touching me. I hadn’t even had coffee yet when he demanded Kandace come over to check my bandages. Assuring him (because I wasn’t worried) I was healing fine and clearing me for light activity (Bonus), she asked him to run with her by their dads. He wanted to refuse, but then Rome walked in, said he wanted to hang with me and to basically get the fuck out.

Taking me to the side, I could see he was worried. If anything, I should be the one worried because he was going to be away from me, a target with no backup. “I’ll be fine while you’re gone,” I could sense his anxiety. “You need to focus, Kandace will be with you, so anything out of the ordinary happens you need to---”

“The way you worry for me,” he says quietly. “See,” he says taking my hand and placing it over his heart. “You’re right here.” And I was right there too. “I’ll check in.”

“I’m going to make some calls before Rome grills me,” I smirk. “He’s like a kid; he’s so obvious.”

“Take it easy on ‘em,” he says kissing me goodbye.

Once they left, Rome let me know he had to finish some paperwork before he ‘got to know me’ so I took that time to make some calls. One of the rules of the wire was a current phone number, and I highly doubted or at least hoped that the guys I was calling were too lazy to change theirs. The wire itself is a small group. Most took odd jobs, part-timers. I kept the group manageable for obvious reasons. We were down to five operators, all of which left the wire without telling me. Four were getting put on a conference call to save time and the fifth needed my full attention. Patching the call in, I grab my mug and sit at the table. They answer one by one (surprisingly yet not surprisingly) then when I had them all live I began.

“Each of you left the wire. I take this to mean you’re choosing to act against one of your own.”

“Camo,” says Pronto cuing in first. “That ain’t the way it is.”

“No?” I argue. “Then why don’t you
tell me
how it is.”

“We started getting heat from Pilgrim,” says Joker joining in. “He started with the ‘if you ain’t with me you’re against me’ bullshit then he tripled the bonus if…”

“If what?”

“If we took you out too,” says Mush.

“Really?” I ask hearing this tidbit. “How much?”

“Two,” says Dugout.

“Thousand?” I sputter at the insult.

“Million,” says Mush again.

“That’s more like it,” I say fluffing my hair. “You boys thinking about crossing me or Gadget? Two mill is a lot of cocaine and hookers.”

“That ain’t what we’re about,” says Pronto giving me grief. “And you fucking know better.”

“Tell you what,” I say feeling generous. “Stay low and let me handle this. Then when I bury Pilgrim and anyone else that gets in my way, I’ll see to it each of you is compensated for your loyalty.”

“Beers and we’re square,” says Dugout, which makes me smile.

“You call Whisky yet?” asks Pronto.

“He’s my last call,” I tell the group.

“Yeah well, he wants the money and gives a fuck about the loyalty. Watch that ass,” says Dugout.

The four fuck-a-teers have been with me from the start. Each of them has a couple of years on me and are good at what they do. Pronto and Dugout are ex-military. Mush, oddly enough, used to be a bartender and Joker still does comedy on the weekends. Those four were good, loyal and not opportunists. Which was the opposite of the guy I saved for last. He wasn’t good, he was excellent. He wasn’t loyal, he was a dick. And if he found an opportunity that paid, he took it. But over the years, I tried helping him anyway. I saw something in him, but the guy fought me on it constantly. On our best day, we were frenemies. Two million is a ton of paper. Especially for an addict. Shit, he’d kill his mother for half that.