Page 22 of At The End Of The Day

I was hotboxing my cigarette, already on my third in less than ten minutes. Squinting through my rage, I was trembling head to toe, searching each and every monitor, but Jackyl was nowhere in sight. What the hell was taking him so long? He had to know where we were. Why give Eddie the secret phone if not to track his whereabouts? He was playing with us, and I was ready to end this fucking game. Like in the tradition of hunters when they kill their first deer, I wanted to eat his fucking heart. I wanted to rip it from his chest with my bare hands and tear it to pieces with my teeth so I could shit it out because that’s all he was. Shit.

“Hey.”

A hand touched my shoulder, snatching me from the red haze. My heart lurching, I swirled the chair and reared my fist back, only seeing Jackyl’s disgusting face. As I swung, Dash shouted, “Holy shit,” and dropped to a squat, my fist missing by inches.

I tumbled forward a bit, the burst of energy zapping the hatred enough to allow clarity into my brain. My jaw gaping, I gawked at him on his knees, looking up at me with a blanched complexion, eyes bulging, his mouth parted on pants.

“Jesus, fuck, man. Oh, shit. I’m so sorry.”

“What the fuck is your problem, Vin?” he shouted back.

“I’m sorry. Oh, shit, I’m so sorry. I…I-I-I…My head’s all fucked up right now, Dash. Christ, I’m so fucking sorry.”

He gulped a breath, a hand pressing to his chest. “Jesus, you damn near gave me a heart attack.”

Despite the situation, I snickered and took a drag. “You act like you ain’t never been hit before. Why you being a little bitch?”

“Because it’s you!” he blurted, waving a palm in my direction.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“You forget I was there when you punched that guy in ‘Dega.”

My eyelids rounded slightly at the memory. We’d gone to a NASCAR event, some white supremacist got a little too snarky for my liking toward a white man and his black wife, so I’d followed him to the bathroom and taken care of his attitude.

“One punch. Pow!” he said, slapping his fist to his palm. “Nose bashed into his skull, dead before he hit the floor.” He snorted and shook his head. “I ain’t ready to die, Vin, gotta say.”

My system began to slow as my focus roamed his features. Though very inappropriate, I couldn’t help but appreciate the way he looked right now; on his knees in front of me, looking up, breathless. My head tilting, I pulled a long, slow breath, arousal tickling my nuts, my dick hardening. Would he be good at giving head? I’d heard him and Mary go at it a few times, she seemed to enjoy his aggression by the way she screamed at the top of her lungs. Would he make me scream just as loud?

“Vin,” he croaked, drawing my attention back to his eyes. They were glazed, the whites showing around his irises. Panting a little harder, his complexion was darkening.

Without even thinking about what I was saying, my chin jutted forward and I muttered, “Suck my dick, Dash.”

Taken aback, he turned ghostly white and leaned away. “What?” he wheezed.

That odd, aggressive dominance I’d been experiencing since my attraction to him surfaced, I lunged forward and seized a fistful of his hair at the back of his skull. While he grabbed my wrist, trying to pry me off, I quickly pulled my dick out my sweats. “I said,” I seethed through gritted teeth and scooted the chair closer. Both hands on either side of his head, I shoved him forward. “Suck my dick.”

Before he could say another word, my cock forced its way into his mouth. He retched and jerked, his back rising, his tongue rolling out underneath. Spit dribbling, his palms pressed on my thighs as he continued to gag and heave.

“Ah, shit,” Dash. Unh, suck it. C’mon, suck it.”

He tried to shake his head, his teeth grazing my flesh adding to the pleasure. My eyes rolling slightly, a long, husky groan shook my chest. I hopped to my feet, one hand curled around under his jaw, the other the back of his head. He was banging his fists, trying to wiggle away, but I kept pace until he was trapped against the wall beneath the window. Incapable of getting away now, I gripped the frame and began fucking his mouth.

The gurgling sounds he made only got me hotter, breaking me out in goosebumps while making me sweat. Every once in a while, his esophagus would open enough for my tip, causing his tongue to instinctively wrap around my width.

My chin on my chest, I glared down at him past my flared nostrils. “Yeah, that’s it, baby. Close your mouth and suck it properly. Be a good boy, Dash, and I’ll make you cum.”

His sight darted to mine, his eyelids rounding even further.

My heart skipped a beat and I snickered. “Yeah, you liked hearing that? You want me to make you nut? I’ll make you cum so fucking hard, baby, just suck my dick like a good boy. Lemme fuck that mouth like a pussy.”

His brows arching, he whimpered, but closed his mouth, his fingers curling to fists around the hem of my sweats. Moving awkwardly, he kept nicking me with his teeth on accident but was definitely trying to give head properly.

My tone slow and gravelly, I coaxed him along. “It’s okay, shh. Just relax, it ain’t that hard. Just close your mouth and I’ll do the rest.”

He emitted another pathetic whimper and closed his eyelids, obeying everything I ordered him to do. My toes curling into the carpet, I started humping, reveling the gurgles.

“Oh, yeah, baby. Unh, you’re so fucking sexy right now, Dash. Oh, shit, I ain’t never been this fucking turned on.”