The Family Business

“There’s a whole bunch of dudes out there with machine guns, and they’re making everyone take off all their clothes. Half the people out there are naked, and the rest are stripping off their clothes. I’m not going to lie, Paris. This doesn’t look good, and I’m scared.” He looked like he was about to cry. “Jesus Christ, what the fuck did you get me into bringing me down here? I’m not some homeboy from the hood. I live in Forest Hills.”


I rolled my eyes at him. Forget what I got him into. What the hell did I get myself into, going on a date with such a little bitch? He was definitely not the dude you’d wanna be with in a fucked-up situation like this.



Orlando



10


“Right here? Right now on the counter?” Ruby asked me in an almost bashful manner. “But I—”

My tongue ate up her words, and that was not all it desired to eat up. It was hard to tell our tongues were strangers as they surveyed every corner of each other’s mouths, knowing exactly where to go. Although our mouths were like magnets, I could feel her hands resting on my chest almost unwillingly as she attempted to push me away.

“Is something wrong with the kitchen?” I asked. There was a sudden pause in the action, allowing me time to imagine myself throwing her ass up on the countertop, my dick surveying every corner of her * with the same familiarity as my tongue had just shown her mouth.

“No, no. Not if that’s where you want it, Mr. Orlando,” she replied, looking everywhere but directly in my eyes. I wasn’t quite sure yet whether she was that intimidated by me, or if it was all part of a coy little act she was putting on. For some reason, I sensed this was no act. Regardless, it only made my dick harder.

“But?” I asked, sensing there was more she wanted to say.

“But I didn’t know we would ... you know ... so soon.” She looked at me—briefly—giving me the pleasure of gazing into those eyes that hummed to a silent Caribbean beat. Then her eyes darted off elsewhere again. “Not that I don’t want to do it now.” This time she rested her hands on my chest to comfort me. “Not that I didn’t want to do it the minute I laid eyes on you. It’s just that, you know, I had this all planned out in my mind. I’d prepare you a nice dinner, we’d eat, talk a little, and then-”

“Let me guess. Cuddle?” I laughed. I could tell it angered her by the slight push I felt against my chest before she placed her hands on her hips. I wondered how long she’d been in the States and how long it had taken for the sisters to get to her. If she started snapping her neck and pointing her finger, I was going to request her birth certificate.

“No, not cuddle,” she said with her sexy-ass accent.

“Talk,” we both said in unison. I was being sarcastic again; she was dead serious. I couldn’t help it. Maybe this was an act. I mean, for real, a paid escort really thinking she was going to get paid to talk?

“Yes, talk. But then, you know, ease into things.” She wrapped her arms around herself as if she were already buck naked and had caught a chill. “I told you this was my first time doing something like this.”

She dropped her arms in defeat and turned to face me. “Look, you sure you don’t want someone else? Someone more experienced? From what I can tell—from what I’ve heard—you deserve the best. Although it would be too good to be true for my first time doing something like this to be with someone like you, I’d totally understand if you’ve changed your mind.”

Damn, damn, and damn! Those eyes were starting to hum again, and I swear to God I thought I even heard them sing a note this time.

“It’s okay,” I told her, now dead serious. It wasn’t a laughing matter anymore. Perhaps the best * I might have ever experienced in my life was about to walk away. “Look, I was just joshing around. I thought joking around might loosen you up a little bit, not hurt your feelings.”

She didn’t say a word. She just stood there, looking like she was debating whether to respond.

She finally spoke. “You didn’t upset me.” I exhaled, but before my breath could barely hit the air, she added, “But you did hurt my feelings a little bit.” Her eyes stopped humming, singing, or whatever they’d been doing—though they were still smiling.

“Look, I didn’t call you over so I could hurt you.”

Carl Weber with Eric Pete's books