This is the single most erotic experience of my life.
A mewing sound escapes her and I pull back. Beautifully flushed, her eyes flutter open and I lick my lips.
I taste strawberry lip gloss.
Clearing my throat, I utter, “Gratitude displayed. Now thank me, baby.”
Asking her to thank me for letting her suck my tongue is a bit much, I’ll admit that, but she blinks before saying softly, almost dreamily, “Thank you, Twitch.”
And my cock nearly explodes.
I need to get out of here. Buttoning up my jacket, I stand. “Got shit to do, babe. I’ll call.”
Returning to her usual self, she smiles, “No. You won’t.”
Smiling back, I respond, “No. I won’t.”
Then I turn on my heel and walk away from the girl of my dreams.
Leaving Lexi’s office, I make it back to work in time for Happy to pull me aside for a rare moment of privacy. “You sort things with the girl?”
Staring him down, I search his face. My lip curls.
What the fuck is it to him?
When he catches my glare, he matches it. “Don’t look at me like that. It is my business because it’s your business. Do you remember that I own this fucking company too? Remember why you came to me for that reason? You’re too impulsive. Unhinged, even. And you know it. I just want to protect my investment. I won’t let you fuck things up for me, man. Love you like a brother, but I won’t let you do that.”
Won’t let… Won’t let me?
Taking a step towards him, fire in my eyes, he places something into my hand. Part of me begs the angry part to let it go. But the angry part…it always wins. Glancing at the business card, fury makes my brain scramble. Lifting my fist, I punch my friend square in the mouth. Stumbling back, he falls flat on his ass. Ignoring my throbbing knuckles, I shake my hand a moment to relieve the pain, then flick the business card onto his chest.
My eyes focusing on the blood dripping from the side of his mouth, I ball my hands into fists and count to ten to stop myself from attacking a second time. And a third time. My head pounds with the need to do just that. “Don’t need to talk to a fucking quack, friend.” I say friend in a way that makes it sound like he’s anything but. “I’m fine. I’m fucking great.”
Happy stands, takes out a handkerchief from his shirt pocket, and dabs at his bloody lip, panting. “That’s exactly why you need to see someone, bro.” We stare at each other. “You’re not fine. I don’t think you’ve been fine a day in your life.”
Happy is my friend, but he’s also a pain in my ass. Turning to allow myself a moment to calm the beast that resides in my head, I breathe deeply. “No quack. Subject closed. What’s on the agenda today?”
He responds immediately, “Damage control. Warehouse A.”
My brow lifts. A sadistic smile appears on my face.
Looks like I’ll be able to take out my anger on someone after all.
Sitting on a five dollar fold out chair from a hardware store, my anger builds watching the traitor who tries in vain to cover his story. But he lies.
I know lies. I’m the king of lies. And his are grating my nerves.
Happy kicks his knees out. He falls forward into a kneeling position.
The middle-aged, plump cronie shakes while pleading, “Mr. T, please, don’t do this. My family, they—”
He bites his tongue upon mentioning his family. As if I’ll go after them.
The guy doesn’t know me at all. That’s not my style.
Reaching into the back of my slacks, I pull out my .32 calibre semi-auto. She’s a beauty, but my .45 is my favorite. I won’t use my baby on this piece of shit though. I don’t want her dirtied by his filthy blood.
Looking down, right into his eyes, I hold his stare.
Using the barrel of the gun to scratch at my temple absentmindedly, I ask a second time, “What did you tell Hamid, Patrick? And don’t say ‘nothing’ because photographs don’t lie. And the way he shook your hand and smiled like he’d won the fucking lottery, I know you told him something.” He trembles and cries. Snot runs down his nostrils and into his mouth. “Nothing? You won’t tell me?”
Standing, I take two steps towards him and sigh at the pitiful state of him. “It’s nothing personal. It’s just business.”
Raising the barrel of the gun to his forehead, I breathe deeply and close my eyes.
I exhale.
The shot rings out.
Smiling like a dork, I’m giddy at getting some girl-time in. I really need it after this week’s occurrences.
Nikki and I have a weekly standing date at a local café. Somewhere we can meet during the week and spend our lunch hour yakking away. I don’t necessarily like today’s subject.
She stirs her coffee and avoids my eyes, looking guilty. “I don’t know anything about this guy and that worries me. I-” Cough, “I’ve asked around and—”