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How she flips me under her shocks me, but my hands grab onto her hips as she flips her hair over her shoulder and then kisses me harder. She moves my hands to her breast, and now I’m the one moaning.
“Fuck,” I can’t get the leverage I want in this position.
“You feel so fucking good, Papi.” Oh, I like that, a lot.
Too much because it’s the distraction, she must have been waiting for. In a blink of two lust-filled eyes, she has me shackled to my fucking bed. ,
“Mercy, let me go.” She backs away from the bed and grabs her shirt.
“Fuck you, pendejo.” She grabs my keys and runs out the door.
I slam my head on the pillow a few times until my anger is under control. Then I smile.
The chase is half the fun, and I will catch my mouse.
“ARIA, call Wolf.” The AI does as I ask, and then I hear weird noises.
“Spark,” He answers, all business.
“Mind coming over to my place and letting me out?” I hear a loud metal door closing, and then he huffs.
“Let you out? Please tell me your girl didn’t get loose again.” I laugh, and he groans.
“Be there in thirty.” Wolf hangs up, and I look up at the ceiling while I wait.
At least I still have my clothes on. This would be embracing if I’d been naked. I think over that kiss, and I don’t care how badly she hates me. You can not fake passion like that.
Hate is just a cunts hair away from love, and I’m already there. She’ll be my old lady before long. She just doesn’t know it yet. When the door opens, I let my head fall to the side to look at Wolf.
“Jesus, Issac, why do you always go for the crazy ones?” I grin.
“Cause Mama always said not to stick my dick in crazy. You know how I feel about orders.” He grunts as he lets my arms down, which are numb now from the angle they were in.
“Mm, better to ask forgiveness than permission. Why on Earth did I ever make you my VP?” He shakes his head, dropping the shackles to the floor.
“Ya love me.” He rolls his eyes and then sighs.
“Glitch is tracking your bike. It’s at the warehouse. She cleaned you out and is probably on her way back to Miami.” That fucking bitch.
“Which car did she take?” His face is fighting a smile, and I know she took my fucking baby.
I’ve been restoring a classic car with my dads since I was a teen after watching a movie with them and falling in love with it on the screen.
“Not Eleanor.” His grin wins the fight, and I curse.
I grab my phone and dial the police non-emergency line.
“Hi, I want to report my car stolen.”
Game on, Mercy.
* * *
I wake up from the dream I’ve been having for three weeks now and notice two things immediately.
My bed is still missing one naked woman, and my car is gone. I knock my head into my pillow three times and call myself the eeijt I am for trusting she wouldn’t fucking run at the first available opportunity.
I glance at the screen on my cellphone and frown at the time. I need to get up and ready, or I’ll be late for church. Priest’s baby is getting baptized, and my Ma will skin me alive if I make her look bad in front of the Cardinal.
