doesn’t even look up to acknowledge my presence. The other stares at me intently. I stare back, and he starts to smirk. I don’t.
“Black, these men require your service.” I look to him, then back to the men. Both are now looking at me. Waiting for me to reply.
“Jake,” I warn. He knows my answer. I don’t deal with people who meet with me. That’s how trouble is caused, accusations happen. Blame.
“It’s a favor for the club,” he murmurs. I shake my head. I’m not doing this, it’s not happening. He may be one of my closest mates, but I’m sick of cleaning up for the club, too many times that shit has happened.
“It’s not happening!” I go to stand and the man in the blue suit stands with me. He looks me directly in the eyes.
“I need this done. Clean. Fast. You can do that! I have heard of you. Just do it and I will pay you double.” My head shakes again, and his face morphs to angry. It doesn’t bother me. These men, these types of men, they’re lazy. They think killing a scorned lover or a work rival will fix all their problems. It won’t, and I won’t deal with it, even if the money is good.
I don’t stand there any longer and listen to any more pleas. I walk out and head straight to my truck. A hand grips my shoulder, making me turn. I know who it is already. If I didn’t and someone touched me that in way they’d be on the floor.
“Hands.” I clench and Jake backs up a step. Seeing how it makes me feel, he shows his hands in surrender.
“Drink, we need a drink,” he says, nodding his head to a dive bar across the street. I want to go back home. Hopefully it’ll be quiet. No Stella there. Though I won’t bet on my luck.
“Stella still whoring around?” Jake asks as we slide onto the stools in front of the bar. He nods to the bartender for two beers and I shake my head.
“She’s a stage ten clinger, and I don’t even let her touch me.”
He bursts out laughing. “You don’t let anyone touch you. But seriously, you want me to come around and ride her?” He leans in close, waiting for my answer.
“If she’s there when I return, I’ll call you.” His head bounces up and down while the beers are set in front of us.
“I fucked this bitch last night. She was like a fucking gymnast, man. Ever been with a gymnast?” he asks excitedly. I shake my head as he’s way too excited. “So anyway, got the bitch doggy style, she’s taking it good from behind when I lift her ass up in the air higher. You wanna know what she does?” He leans in close, a smirk touches my lips. “She does the splits, mid-air, cock buried deep inside of her, like holy mother fucken shit…” His head shakes back and forth.
“Gymnast, ha?” I ask, trying to contain my smirk. This fucker is way too excited.
“Yeah, I fucked her three times, three motherfucking times without the help of any drugs. The way she bends…” he whistles loudly, “…had me going back for more.”
“You’re a stallion, three times my man, a new record.” I tap his back and he shrugs me away.
“What? You did it more than three times?” he questions.
“More,” I mutter, picking up my beer and putting to my lips.
“How many more?” he questions, waiting for my answer.
“Many more.” I smile.
“Fuck you, Black,” he says, nodding to the bartender. My phone beeps and I look down reading the text.
Unknown Number: I know I shouldn’t contact you. But thank you so much. Rose.
He never wrote back and it’s been days. I expected something, anything. But I got nothing. I’ve been staying at Casey’s, our friendship is on the mend, and even her fiancé has warmed up to me. He was the one that gave me Black’s number, but not to use it excessively, just to say what I needed and then I should delete it.
Some days are hard, so much harder than others. Some days I feel the need, the need to sell everything I own and buy what I need. The hit, the high.
I was hired and am now working at
“Black, these men require your service.” I look to him, then back to the men. Both are now looking at me. Waiting for me to reply.
“Jake,” I warn. He knows my answer. I don’t deal with people who meet with me. That’s how trouble is caused, accusations happen. Blame.
“It’s a favor for the club,” he murmurs. I shake my head. I’m not doing this, it’s not happening. He may be one of my closest mates, but I’m sick of cleaning up for the club, too many times that shit has happened.
“It’s not happening!” I go to stand and the man in the blue suit stands with me. He looks me directly in the eyes.
“I need this done. Clean. Fast. You can do that! I have heard of you. Just do it and I will pay you double.” My head shakes again, and his face morphs to angry. It doesn’t bother me. These men, these types of men, they’re lazy. They think killing a scorned lover or a work rival will fix all their problems. It won’t, and I won’t deal with it, even if the money is good.
I don’t stand there any longer and listen to any more pleas. I walk out and head straight to my truck. A hand grips my shoulder, making me turn. I know who it is already. If I didn’t and someone touched me that in way they’d be on the floor.
“Hands.” I clench and Jake backs up a step. Seeing how it makes me feel, he shows his hands in surrender.
“Drink, we need a drink,” he says, nodding his head to a dive bar across the street. I want to go back home. Hopefully it’ll be quiet. No Stella there. Though I won’t bet on my luck.
“Stella still whoring around?” Jake asks as we slide onto the stools in front of the bar. He nods to the bartender for two beers and I shake my head.
“She’s a stage ten clinger, and I don’t even let her touch me.”
He bursts out laughing. “You don’t let anyone touch you. But seriously, you want me to come around and ride her?” He leans in close, waiting for my answer.
“If she’s there when I return, I’ll call you.” His head bounces up and down while the beers are set in front of us.
“I fucked this bitch last night. She was like a fucking gymnast, man. Ever been with a gymnast?” he asks excitedly. I shake my head as he’s way too excited. “So anyway, got the bitch doggy style, she’s taking it good from behind when I lift her ass up in the air higher. You wanna know what she does?” He leans in close, a smirk touches my lips. “She does the splits, mid-air, cock buried deep inside of her, like holy mother fucken shit…” His head shakes back and forth.
“Gymnast, ha?” I ask, trying to contain my smirk. This fucker is way too excited.
“Yeah, I fucked her three times, three motherfucking times without the help of any drugs. The way she bends…” he whistles loudly, “…had me going back for more.”
“You’re a stallion, three times my man, a new record.” I tap his back and he shrugs me away.
“What? You did it more than three times?” he questions.
“More,” I mutter, picking up my beer and putting to my lips.
“How many more?” he questions, waiting for my answer.
“Many more.” I smile.
“Fuck you, Black,” he says, nodding to the bartender. My phone beeps and I look down reading the text.
Unknown Number: I know I shouldn’t contact you. But thank you so much. Rose.
He never wrote back and it’s been days. I expected something, anything. But I got nothing. I’ve been staying at Casey’s, our friendship is on the mend, and even her fiancé has warmed up to me. He was the one that gave me Black’s number, but not to use it excessively, just to say what I needed and then I should delete it.
Some days are hard, so much harder than others. Some days I feel the need, the need to sell everything I own and buy what I need. The hit, the high.
I was hired and am now working at
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