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Authors: Scott Hildreth

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BOOK: The Gun Runner (Mafia Made)
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I shoved her full of dick in one savage thrust. “Don’t.”

I pulled my hips back and reached for her tits. I squeezed them firmly in my hands. “Ever.” I thrust my hips against her ass.

Obviously close to climax, she released a low-pitched moan.

Another violent shove followed. “Doubt.”

“Oh God,” she wailed.

I withdrew my entire length and quickly drove it right back in. “Me.”

I pulled back slowly, watching each inch of my glistening shaft as it slid free of her. Without warning, I pounded myself into her one more time, grunting as my cock bottomed out. “Again.”

She gulped a breath.

I squeezed her breasts, rolling her nipples between my thumb and forefingers as I continued with a predictable fast-paced rhythm. A moment later, and the sensation of my balls slapping against her clit proved to be too much.

“I’m going to come,” I groaned.

“Please,” she begged.

I continued at the same pace for a few more seconds. As my cock swelled, warning us of what was to come, I felt her pussy contract. I squeezed her boobs tight while she fumbled to grip the edge of the desk. With her arms outstretched and her back arched, her legs began to quiver.

I pinched her nipples tight. My balls tightened. “Oh...fuck...” I groaned.

I exploded, releasing every ounce of my satisfaction into her.

Her pussy clenched my cock like a vise, and together we reached climax, mine lasting for several earth-shattering seconds.

Still inside of her wetness, I leaned forward, resting my chest lightly against her back. I kissed her shoulder. “I love you.”

Her breathing was still irregular and choppy. “I love...you...too.”

I kissed her neck. “Make me a promise.”

“Okay,” she responded.

“Don’t ever leave me again.”

“I won’t,” she assured me. “But you need to make me the same one.”

“Okay.”

“No,” she said. “You need to say it.”

“I’ll never leave you.”

“No matter what?” she asked.

“No matter what.”

She exhaled heavily and collapsed onto the desk. “Thank you.”

Chapter Twenty-Nine

Terra

We were finally going to ride the roller coaster we never had the chance to ride because we got distracted with sex. “It seems like we’ve been talking about this forever,” I said.

Michael merged into traffic and then glanced toward me. “I say we stop and eat first.”

I was so excited. But I was hungry too. “Agreed. Now all we have to do is decide what we’re going to eat. Something light,” I said. “So we don’t get sick on the roller coaster. Nothing’s worse than barfing.”

“If you want a light meal...” He chuckled and grabbed his crotch. “You can always...”

After resolving our issues in his office on the previous night, we put everything behind us, and agreed that Michael’s business was
Michael’s business
. I decided my reaction to learning of his chosen profession was more of a response to what happened to my cousin than his dealings with firearms.

In the end, I felt foolish for reacting the way I did.

Although he forgave me, I still harbored guilt, the majority of which was a result of not having been forthright with him regarding my own profession—or lack thereof—and the truth about my family. I needed to find the courage to tell him, but because I hadn’t yet, I felt I needed to make it up to him somehow.

“Get it out,” I said.

“I’m driving.”

I unbuckled my seat belt. “So.”

“Really? You can’t suck my cock while I’m driving.”

“Really?” I said mockingly. “You’ve never heard of road head?”

He changed lanes, took a quick glance in my direction and fixed his eyes on the road ahead.

It was the perfect way for me to make it up to him. “If you’re not going to get it out, I will.”

He stared straight ahead.

Fine.

I struggled with his belt and then the button of his jeans. It wasn’t as easy as I thought. I finally got them unbuttoned, and began the journey to get them down his hips far enough to release his cock. There seemed to be so much happening. The seat belt alarm was dinging, the music was playing, and I could hear Michael’s breathing. With no help from him, I fought and fumbled until it finally popped out.

Holy shit.

His perfectly shaped dick was twitching only a few inches from my face. It seemed so much bigger. I glanced up at him, hoping for some form of approval to proceed.

I got nothing.

I gripped the shaft in my hand and grinned at the girth. I made a comparison to my wrist and couldn’t decide if I had really skinny wrists, or if his cock was abnormally thick. I focused on my hand and watched as I worked it up and down the length of the shaft.

His breathing became labored, as did mine.

Gripping his dick in my right hand, I traced around the rim of the head with the tip of my left index finger. After a few slow circles, his cock twitched. Startled, I jumped. He flinched.

I wet my lips and prepared to rock his world.

I looked up at him one last time. If he was going to object, it was going to need to be quick. He glanced down at me. Although he fought against it, his mouth curled into a slight grin.

It was all the approval I needed.

I’m going to suck your cock until you forgive me.

Forever.

I wrapped my lips around the head and flattened my tongue against the shaft. Slowly, I worked my dick-sucking magic, taking a little more of him in my mouth with each stroke.

Having him in my mouth made me feel powerful in a sexual sense. Whenever we had sex, I was left feeling like he was in charge—he was doing the fucking, and I was receiving whatever it was he was giving me.

Don’t get me wrong, I enjoyed having him in charge, and loved how he fucked me. But. When his swollen cock was in my mouth, and the sex began and ended with me sucking him until completion, it provided me a sense of accomplishment like nothing else.

When he came, it was all the proof I needed that I satisfied him fully and completely.

His hips began to rise and fall ever-so-slightly, working in perfect timing with my mouth. The soft skin of the head banged against my throat with each stroke—a reminder of his massive length.

I began to work my hand gently along the slippery shaft while I continued to suck, hoping I could bring him to climax.

The music played, the seat belt buzzer chimed, and cars sped by us, but his breathing became more prominent than any of the other sounds. Choppy and labored, it encouraged me to continue with vigor.

I felt his hand gently rest on the back of my head. His hips bucked wildly.

And his warm come filled my throat.

Yes!

I continued to suck until every last drop was gone, swallowing him gratefully.

I returned to my seat, satisfied that I had pleased him. I truly hoped he had forgiven me as completely as he said he did, but it wasn’t the only reason why I wanted to suck his cock.

I wanted to suck his cock because I loved him.

And I wanted him to know it.

I waved my hand in his direction and grinned a grin of accomplishment. “You can fix that mess with your jeans. I did my job.”

He coughed out a laugh and shook his head. “I can’t fucking believe you did that.”

“What?”

“In the car? Really?”

“You didn’t complain. And I thought it was hot.”

“It was hot. It was hot as hell. Just kind of new for me.”

“Nobody’s ever...”

He shook his head. “Nope.”

I stared back at him in disbelief. “Sex in a car?”

“Nope.”

I grinned. “Huh.”

Eventually we exited the highway and ate a salad in anticipation of riding the roller coaster. Afterward, we drove to the theme park and found a place to park Michael’s car without fear of someone dinging it with their door.

We sat in the rather remote parking location, several aisles away from any of the other cars, but well within view of passersby. I really wanted to ride the roller coaster, but the more I looked at Michael, the more I realized how completely I loved him.

“You ready?” he asked.

I simply adored him.

“Are
you
ready?”

He wrinkled his nose. “For what?”

He must have seen the adoration in my eyes.

I pointed to his belt. “Take off your pants.”

He turned and looked out the window. A mother and her children were walking toward their car in the distance.

“There’s people out there.”

I unbuttoned my jeans and began to push them down my thighs. “Recline your seat. Whatever. But I’m riding that cock. I have to.”

“Why?”

“Because I fucking love you.”

He looked out the window one more time, shook his head, and sighed. Following what appeared to be a short mental struggle, he unbuckled his belt and removed his jeans. “That’s good enough reason for me.”

I got undressed, climbed on top of him, and found a comfortable position with his seat reclined fully. With him flat on his back and out of sight, and my hands on the steering wheel, it appeared to anyone who happened to walk past that I was simply sitting in the car alone.

I tapped my hands on the steering wheel, listened to the music, and fucked Michael like it was the last time I was going to have a chance. I felt I had a lot of making up to do for my foolish behavior.

I waved at a few people as they walked past, changing their odd stares to a smile.

It took quite some time, but after three orgasms on my part, he eventually climaxed. With the car running, and the air conditioner blowing cold air against our sweaty bodies, I collapsed into his arms in the reclined seat.

When we woke up the theme park was closed, and I was certain Michael was the man I wanted to spend the rest of my life with.

But I was convinced we’d never ride a roller coaster together.

Chapter Thirty

Michael

“What about this one?” Terra asked.

I was relaxing on the most comfortable couch I had ever had the pleasure of sitting on, and had no desire to get up. Dressed in jeans, heels and a black sleeveless top, Terra sat across from me on another piece of furniture. She spread her arms over the backs of the cushions and grinned.

“I like it.”

She rocked back and forth in the cushion. “Michelle asked about Cap again.”

I pulled my phone from my pocket. “I forgot. I’ll text him right now. When does she want to try and do it if he wants to?”

“She’s free anytime. And, thank you. At least I’ll be able to say I asked.”

I sent Cap a quick text message and forwarded the photo of Terra’s friend she had sent me a few days prior. I pinched my phone between my thumb and forefinger and studied the couch she was sitting on.

“How much do you like it?” she asked.

“A lot. I like the leather.”

She pressed her hands into the leather cushions, leaving impressions when she pulled them away. “Like it enough to buy it?”

“I like looking at it from here.”

She narrowed her eyes and appeared to be inspecting my choice of seating surfaces. “The one you’re on is a shade darker than what you have. It’s almost white. It’d be like making a change but not really making a change.”

“True.”

“This?” she said. “This is heaven. And it would look so good in there.”

We both agreed my taste in furniture was boring, so I’d decided to redecorate my home—with her assistance. Wandering aimlessly through a furniture store, however, was proving to be more work than I was prepared for.

She slapped the surface of the cushion beside her. “Come sit on it.”

I pushed myself up from the couch and my phone buzzed. I opened the message from Cap, grinned at his response, and pushed the phone into my pocket.

I flopped down beside Terra. The cushion seemed to envelop me. “Holy shit.”

“I know, right?”

“It swallows you up.”

She pointed at the tag hanging over the arm. “Down-filled cushions.”

“Down-filled heaven. You’re right.”

“With your blond wood floors this stuff would look great.”

The period of time I was without Terra allowed me to understand how I truly felt about her. Touching a woman and being touched in return was an experience in itself, but loving and being loved was beyond compare.

I wanted my home to feel comfortable to her, and hoped making a few changes would convert it into a place she wanted to stay at, and less of a place she chose to visit.

I bounced up and down on the cushion. “Do you like it?”

“I love it.”

“Well don’t you two just look adorable?” a shrill voice asked.

The sales associate wore too much makeup, had noticeable extensions that were in complete contrast to the color of her hair, and was wearing a lemon-yellow skirt and jacket that looked like they came right out of the 1950s.

The ten pounds of jewelry she was wearing topped off the ensemble.

She clutched her portfolio of paperwork and grinned. “That’s our Cordova line. It’s our bestselling line for a reason.”

I studied the big brass buttons that dangled from her open jacket. “What reason would that be?”

“Durability, comfort and value.”

I glanced at the price tag and tried not to act surprised by the $8000
value
. “From what I can see, it’s the most expensive piece in the store.”

“It is. But it’s worth so much more. We could ask as much as $10,000 or maybe $12,000 for that couch and we don’t.” She turned and pointed to the love seat positioned beside the couch. “Did you see the love seat?”

“I did. I stumbled over it to get to this one, yes.”

Terra pinched my leg. “Stop,” she whispered.

“Well keep looking, and in case you forgot, I’m Chloe.”

“Thank you,” Terra said. “We’ll let you know when we make a decision.”

Chloe’s eyes lit up. Apparently, she felt she found a new friend. “How long have you two been together?”

“Three months,” Terra said.

Her head cocked to the side and she stared back in disbelief. “Months?”

“Mm-hmm.”

Chloe gasped and covered her mouth with the tips of her fingers. “Oh my. I was going to guess years. You two have an undeniable aura about you.”

“Thank you,” Terra said.

“Again, if you need anything.”

“Thank you,” I said with a false nod of gratitude.

Terra rested her head on my shoulder. “Do you think we have an aura about us?”

“I don’t know. It’s hard to say what others see.”

She nestled her head into the space between my shoulder and neck. “I think after that little mess we went through that we must have something pretty special, because being without you was absolute hell.”

“Cap says he’s never seen me happier.”

“If you could describe it, how would you? You know, what you feel?”

“I can’t,” I said. “It’s indescribable.”

She lifted her head from my shoulder. “Really?”

“Well. I don’t know. I’d hate to try and define what I feel. It wouldn’t do us justice.”

“Do it in one word.”

I put my arm over her shoulder. “Indescribable.”

She leaned forward and puckered her lips. “That’s cheating.”

I kissed her lightly. “Best I could do. And you? One word.”

“Life-changing.”

“That’s two words.”

“It’s one. It’s got a hyphen.”

I stood and alternated glances between the two couches. She said my home looked clinical, and maybe she was right. The darker leather was by far the better choice, but not what I would have chosen if shopping alone.

“So, what do you think?” she asked.

I added the prices of the couch, ottoman and love seat. “About what?”

“Furniture shopping. Did you think six months ago that you’d be doing this?”

“No. I was pretty sure I’d be single forever.”

“When the right person comes along, though.” She stood. “There’s not much you can do to argue with it.”

I shook my head. “You’re not the
right
person.”

“I’m not?”

“No,” I said. “You’re the only person.”

Chloe’s irregular steps in her oversized heels did little to disguise her approach. “So, have you two lovebirds made a decision?”

I looked at Terra. “Do you want it?”

She nodded eagerly. “I really like it.”

“We’ll take the ottoman, love seat and couch. In this color.”

“Really?” they asked in unison.

“Really,” I said. “But there’s a catch.”

“What’s the catch?” Chloe asked.

“I want it delivered by the weekend.”

“I’m sure that won’t be a problem,” she said. “We have trucks that deliver seven days a week.”

I grinned and nodded. “We’re going to look around a little more.”

“Take your time. And just let me know if you have any questions.”

As she turned away, I glanced at Terra. She was smiling from ear to ear.

“What are you so happy about?” I asked.

“You’re actually going to buy it?”

“You said you liked it.”

“I love it.”

“I want my house to be a place where you want to be. A place where you’re comfortable.”

“I am comfortable there.”

“You said it looked clinical.”

“Everything’s white. It
does
look clinical. But that doesn’t mean I don’t want to be there.”

“I just. I want you to be happy. Happy with everything. I’m tired of us going back and forth and spending time at both places and eventually spending nights apart. I just. I want my place to be comfortable for you.”

“Are you thinking. Do you mean you think we should...are you...” she stammered.

“I’m thinking you need to start thinking about whether or not you want to live with me.”

There
,
I
said it.

“Oh, wow. Yes, I uhhm. I’d love to start thinking about that.”

“Well, get busy thinking about it,” I said with a laugh. “And let me know what you come up with.”

“I’m done,” she said.

“Done what?”

“Thinking.”

“And?”

She walked toward me with her arms outstretched. “Let’s do it.”

“Go pick out some bedroom furniture,” I said.

“Are you serious?”

I wrapped my arms around her and held her tight to my chest. “Anything you want.”

“Really?”

“Really.” I buried my face in her hair and inhaled a deep breath.

Lilacs
,
jasmine and sunshine.

The aroma reminded me of our little escapade in the Saks dressing room. “You better get busy looking,” I said. “Or I’m going to end up bending you over this couch.”

She pulled away and glanced over each shoulder. “You can’t do that in here.”

“Probably not a good idea, but I just got a whiff of your hair and it reminded me of Saks.”

“Every time I hear that word it makes me wet.”

“What word?”

“Saks,” she said.

I chuckled. “Saks, Saks, Saks, Saks.”

“You’re going to get it when we get back to your place.” She held my hand in hers and started walking toward the bedroom furniture. “Why’d you want the furniture delivered by this weekend?”

“Thought it’d look nice when Cap and Michelle came over.”

She stopped and turned to face me. “He said yes?”

“He did.”

Her eyes widened. “Oh my God. This is so exciting. Can we buy some candles?”

I stared back at her. “Candles?”

“You don’t have any candles. Like none. In the whole house.”

My stare continued. “I didn’t know I needed any.”

“Well, you do. You need a few Jo Malone Wild Fig and Cassis candles. If you’re going to have a girl in your house full-time, actually there’s a lot of things we’re going to need to get.”

I wanted a life with her, and I was willing to do almost anything to get it. But candles?

“Alright,” I said. “We’ll get the Jo Malone candles. But it’s going to cost you.”

“What?” she asked.

“You’ll see,” I said with a grin.

BOOK: The Gun Runner (Mafia Made)
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