Outside our safe little space, people clap and cheer as a blues band takes over the stage and the singer's sexy croon takes over the cool evening air. It's a different backdrop, that's for sure, turning Brooke's and my sordid little affair into something more sensual.
My fingers knead her flesh, dig into the soft pale skin over her hips. I take hold of that natural handle, that perfect curve of hip bone that feels like it was designed for me to grab onto. In this position, I can push all the way in, every single inch. I can feel her moistness spreading across our combined flesh, can feel the contractions taking over as she succumbs to the pleasure, her breath fogging against the glass in front of her face.
I feel a satisfied smile drag across my mouth as I let my head tilt back and move my hips hard, loving the resistance she's giving me, the firm stance of her legs, the press of her palms into the glass. I give her everything I've got, fucking hard and fast, my balls teasing her pussy, my piercing playing with her clit.
I don't expect her to come so quick, to push back into me and collapse, my hands on her body the only things that keep her from hitting the ground knees first. I follow Brooke to the pavement and encourage her to stay on all fours, knees to the pavement, hands splayed open wide as her head hangs down. And then I fuck her harder, as fast and frenzied as I can. I let go completely and I don't worry about a goddamn thing except for this.
When I come, I feel her react to the sounds I'm making, the way I'm squeezing her body and pumping those last few, furious thrusts. She bucks her hips back into mine, easing her body down my shaft as I finish hard and quick.
“Fuck,” Brooke mumbles as she pulls away from me and curls against the door with her knees up, one hand resting on her calf as she gives me an almost-glare and I grin, tearing the condom off and rising to my feet. I toss it into the trash can just outside the alcove and then cross my arms over my chest.
“Don't tell me you didn't like that,” I say as I move back into the shadows and reach my hand down for Brooke. She's shaking when she lifts her palm up and places it gently, tentatively inside of mine. The brush of our fingers sends a warm thrill through me as I tug Brooke to her feet and into the circle of my arms.
“I'm shaking,” she admits, but I just smile.
“I know.”
“Can we go pierce my eyebrow now?”
I tilt my head back with a laugh and then drop my chin, pressing a kiss to Brooke's forehead.
That gentle, easy touch … it makes us both shiver.
I seriously cannot believe I just did it in the middle of Old Town. Like, anybody could've seen us. And I so totally didn't give a shit.
I wrap my arms around myself and pretend like I'm not wet and uncomfortable downstairs. Too embarrassing to talk about that with Zayden. While he's driving, I send off some secret texts to my girlfriends back in Berkeley, telling them to call me or better yet—come visit my ass like yesterday.
“You didn't tell me your brother lived over here,” I say as we pull into a slightly shadier area of town, down a street populated entirely with copies of the same duplex in different colors.
“Yeah, well, my poor bro works his butt off as an insurance salesman and he and his wife really wanted to own their own place …” Zay trails off a little as we pause in front of a green and white duplex with a really beautiful right side decorated in flowers and outdoor statuary … and the other side, well, not so beautiful. “They bought this place with the life insurance money our parents left us.” Zay eyes the ugly side of the duplex with his pierced brow cocked up in disgust. “And then they rented out one half to this doucher over here.” He points his thumb in that direction as we pull into the driveway behind a beat up old Geo Metro. “They've tried to evict the fucker, but he always threatens to sue 'em or squat or whatever the fuck.”
Zay parks the car and we climb out, slamming the doors closed behind us.
Not ten seconds later, some guy with a beard and a shotgun comes out the front door of the ugly duplex and points the muzzle at Zayden.
“You fucked with my crop, you piece of shit,” he says as I put my palms up and take a small step back. Zayden just tucks his hands into his back pockets and stares the guy down.
“What are you gonna do about it, you baby hating motherfucker? The law says you can have six plants. Not, like, thirty. And not to sell. Go eat a dick and stop banging on the wall. The next time you do it, it won't be your weed that I snip off.” Zay makes a cutting motion with his fingers as the man cocks his shotgun and takes a step forward, his hands shaking with rage.
Uh-oh.
What the hell did you do, Zayden?
“Shoot me. In the front yard. With several witnesses. How do you think that shit'll go down?”