AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“It’s game time, baby,” I drawl, and he laughs in response.
“You sure? She might shoot you for real and haul your ass to jail if your little suka plan doesn’t work.”
“Oh, it will work, fucker,” I grunt, my cock aching, and desperately pleading for her cunt.
“Okay, sweetheart, it’s your funeral,” he replies, ending the call.
“It’s hers.” I laugh, and push my helmet over my head while I straddle my bike. I give her place one last longing look, rev the engine, and make my way downtown counting down the days before she’s truly mine.
Paxton
A week later
“Are you ready for your first arrest?” my father asks as we drive through a shady part of New Orleans. I check the rearview mirror and nod, watching my brothers follow in the car behind us.
“I am,” I tell him, my voice a little shaky, while I scan the grainy picture attached to the file Mom put together on the iPad. Jonathan Reeves, twenty-something years old. In and out of juvi since the age of twelve. Wanted for an armed robbery at a 7-Eleven downtown.
It should be a textbook arrest. I repeat my mom’s words in my head. I’ve trained years for this moment. Fidgeting in my seat, I take a deep breath, trying to get my racing heart under control. The last few weeks I’ve been on edge, aching and waking up with my pussy throbbing like the man of my dreams made me come. Sometimes I can’t even find my panties. I’ve been a sound sleeper since I was young, nothing wakes me up, not even the sirens when I was a kid or when hurricane Katrina made landfall, and our bounty hunting office was covered in mud and water.
Dad places his hand on my knee. “You’re going to do great, Paxton; you were born for this,” he says reassuringly.
“Thanks, Pa.” I run my fingers over the picture of the target. He has his shotgun pointed at the camera, his face obscured by the black balaclava he’s wearing.
The intel we got from a local tweaker said Reeves is holed up on the top floor of an abandoned building. I memorized his file last night in bed and stared at his picture for longer than I probably should have. The way the guy is standing so nonchalantly, without a care in the world and wearing all black screams danger, and my clit twitches while I squirm in my seat. He holds his face a little to the side like he’s taunting the camera, mocking me. It shouldn’t turn me on, but during the night I kept tossing and turning fantasizing about the suspect pinning me to the bed with his big body, while his hand roughly pushed my lace panties aside before he entered me from behind. I circled my fingers over my clit imagining him cutting off my screams with his hand, all the while wearing the damn mask whispering dirty things in my ear.
Focusing on the road ahead, I know I won’t find a guy like him. Normal people do not have sexual fantasies about a man wearing a mask while he fucks you raw as you’re begging him to screw you harder, faster, until you come, gasping for air.
“Kid?” Dad asks, “You okay?”
“Sorry, I was just thinking,” I say apologetically, my cheeks heating.
“Keep your head in the game; if you’re not ready, you should tell us,” he says, his voice stern.
“No, I’m good. I can do this.”
He nods and parks the car in the alley behind the building, and without saying another word I follow him out. Rain drizzles down. Welcome to New Orleans during hurricane season.
“Okay, sis?” Billy my middle brother asks, trying to ruffle a hand through my black curls.
I swat his fingers away. “Watch the hair asshole,” I jokingly warn.
My oldest brother, Dalton, shakes his head and gives me a reassuring smirk. “This should be an easy one, like dipping your toes in the water.”
My father lights a cigarette and nods, his eyes gleaming. Our family has been bounty hunting since my great-grandfather started the business over sixty years ago. I want to make them all proud. The James family has walked both sides of the law ever since my great-grandfather, Jesse, tricked everyone into thinking he was dead and spent his last days in New Orleans.
I check my gun one last time and tighten the bullet proof vest again. My fingers tremble as the adrenaline courses through my veins. My brothers always joke about how chasing after bad guys is like having sex. I wouldn’t know. At eighteen, I haven’t had a boyfriend yet. I went on a couple dates, but both my brothers and father scared the living shit out of potential candidates. I shake my head. I need to focus and try not to vomit from my nerves. Or think about how I had the most intense orgasm of my life last night fantasizing about the guy I’m about to arrest.
“Don’t be nervous, kiddo,” Dad says reassuringly. “We have your back.”
I nod, swallowing hard, and watch as they get ready themselves. Dalton checks his shotgun, while Billy winks, arms his machine gun and points it into the air.
“Ready to earn some money, boys?” Dad teases, pushing me in the shoulder with his fist.
I take a deep breath and smile at the men I love. “Hell yes,” I tell them, drawing my favorite Glock before walking up front. I’m going to nail the son of a bitch.
