AllFreeNovel
Share Us
“You know what I mean,” I growl, sliding my hand under the sheets and twisting her nipple hard enough to make her yelp and smack me on the shoulder. “We’re together, Yolanda. We belong together and we are together and we will always be together.”
“So I’m not owned anymore?” Yolanda points at the room-service tray for another cinnamon stick, grinning impishly as I hand it to her with a fake grump on my face. “Did I get promoted from a piece of property to a full-fledged partner in this relationship? Wow, my pussy must be more valuable than I thought.”
“Oh, you have no fucking idea how precious your pussy is, baby,” I whisper devilishly against her neck, sliding my hand down her tummy and placing my palm flat against her mound. “Fifty grand was only a downpayment for the right to own your sweet little slit. I’m gonna be paying the price for that privilege the rest of my life. I’ll do anything for that pussy now that you’ve got me addicted.”
Yolanda smacks me on the arm, then gasps when I smack her pussy with three sturdy fingers beneath the sheets. “Did you just slap my pussy?” she demands with mock indignation. “How would you like it if I slapped your cock?”
“I’d like it just fine, baby.” My wolfish grin spreads to my entire face as I yank the sheets off us, exposing my ramrod-straight cock standing at attention like it’s just waiting to be slapped. “Here. Slap away.”
“You’re sick,” she whispers, slapping my cock once so it sways back and forth, then sliding her beautiful butt off the bed and scampering to the bathroom and closing the door. She emerges after a few minutes, bathrobe covering her body, expression telling me that her mind is already moving back to her friend Marybeth, that she knows damn well that we’re nowhere close to our happy ending, that maybe we haven’t even come to the most dangerous part of our journey to forever. “I need clothes and shoes. There’s money in my wallet. Do you mind going out and—”
“Already taken care of, baby.” I finish my second cup of coffee, sigh down at my sulky dick that isn’t going to get slapped as much as it would like right now. Then I swing my legs off the side of the bed, get up and walk over to the closet, pull open the door. “Last night I found that maid we bumped into earlier. Asked her to pick up an outfit for you in the morning after she gets off the nightshift. She’d seen you, so I figured she could judge your size well enough. She also noticed you were barefoot, so I hope she was able to size your feet right too.”
Yolanda shrieks in delight, hurries over to the closet, unwraps the parcel wrapped neatly in clean brown paper. It’s a set of black tights, the kind with pockets on the side. Matching black tank-top and a yellow pullover to cover those curves from prying eyes. And shiny New Balance sneakers with turquoise trim and extra in-soles in case they’re a size too big.
“It’s perfect,” Yolanda says, holding the top against her chest and then smiling with happy surprise. “That’s very thoughtful, Brock. Thank you. How much do I owe you?”
“Two kisses and a hundred dick-slaps,” I say very seriously, lying back down on the bed, eyeing my upright cock, then wiggling it obscenely in her direction. “In no particular order. You can do the slapping first, finish with the kisses. Whatever works for you.”
Yolanda rolls her eyes, huffs out an exaggerated breath, then walks over to my side of the bed and stops. She puts her hands on her hips, looks down at my panting dick, sighs again, then lifts up her bathrobe and clambers onto the bed, straddling me, then guiding my cock to her concealed pussy and slowly lowering her weight onto me as I stare in shocked delight at this remarkable woman who was a kidnapped virgin yesterday and is now about to ride me like I’m her stallion, using my cock like it’s an instrument for her pleasure.
Which it is.
“Damn, Yolanda,” I groan as she bounces up and down, riding me with her tight pussy, her bathrobe opening up at the chest, giving me a glimpse of her bobbing boobs, her perky nipples that seem to have a couple of bite-marks that would match my dental records. “Fuck, you look so hot in the sunlight.”
I push two fingers into her mouth, groaning at the sight of her sucking lips. She’s riding me hard, clearly intending this to be a quickie, milking my cock with breathless fury until I shout and tighten and come into her with shocking force, groping her bobbing breasts and twisting her hard nipples as she squeals and then comes all over my spurting cock.
We finish together, then Yolanda collapses on my heaving chest, smiles dreamily as I kiss her wetly, panting into her hair, my cock still throbbing as it pushes out the last drops of what appears to be an endless supply of semen produced by my balls for this woman. We lay in silence for a few minutes, then Yolanda rises off me, dismounts, grabs her new clothes, and disappears back into the bathroom to change.
I take a moment to bask in the afterglow of that furiously unexpected fuck-session. But now that Yolanda took the edge off my arousal, my mind soon moves to the seriousness of what lies ahead.
A part of me wants to take Yolanda back over the border despite her protests, but I know she’ll just cross back to Mexico and try to save Marybeth on her own. So she stays here, stays with me. Which is good, because I also can’t deny that there’s a possessive part of me that refuses to let her out of my sight, won’t let her get too far from my body.
And so I’ve been up for hours formulating a plan—not just for Marybeth but for myself too.
For us.
For Yolanda and me to get a shot at riding away together.
“So, what’s the plan?” Yolanda is back in the room, dressed in her new outfit. The black tights accentuate her gorgeous hips, and I have to force myself to quickly pull my jeans on before I get so hard my dick won’t fit inside my fly. “Where do we even start looking for Kazi’s whorehouses?”
“Kazi runs a dozen different brothels in the area,” I say with a grunt as I grab my leather jacket, dig inside for my sunglasses, put them on and then ruffle my already-mussed hair to make it look like I’m a biker who’s just had a very rough night that isn’t quite over even though it’s late morning. “But those are more-or-less legit places. No kidnapped women there. There’s just one true underground brothel, and that’s where Marybeth will be. It’ll be guarded, but by low-level local thugs who double as pimps. Kazi’s Russian bodyguards shouldn’t be there, and hopefully neither will Kazi and his mama. So long as nobody recognizes me, I should be able to sneak Marybeth out of there without too much trouble.” I adjust my shades so they’re slightly askew, check my look in the mirror, then turn to Yolanda. “How do I look?”
“Like a rough biker who’s been partying all night and is still drunk.” Yolanda smiles tightly, the tension showing on her pretty face. “Is that your plan? You’re going to pretend to be looking for a whore, find Marybeth, then sneak her out of a guarded brothel in broad daylight? You don’t even have a gun, Brock.”
I shrug. “They’d search me anyway before letting me in there. It’s the kind of place where really twisted assholes go to do seriously perverted stuff, and so there’s a strict no-weapons policy. But once you get into a room, the guards stay clear, don’t enter no matter what they hear.”
Yolanda pales, her eyes flashing with sudden rage when she understands how dark this underworld can get, realizes what kind of sickness exists in the world, comprehends the twisted consequences of mixing sex with violence. “Now I really want to kill Kazi and his mother. They don’t deserve to be arrested and put in prison. They need to die. Oh, I wish they both die horrible deaths.”
I crack a sideways grin. “You’re going to get your wish. Well, half of it, anyway.”
Yolanda frowns. “What do you mean?”
“While you were in la-la land I got on the phone with the Skulls MC President back in San Antonio,” I say. “Figured I’d try to get ahead of this thing, spin up my own story before Kazi gets to tell his version.” Rumbling out a breath, my eyes go dark, cold determination oozing through my body. “And make it so that Kazi never gets to tell his version.”
“And what’s your version of the story?” Yolanda’s eyes light up with hope.
I shrug, check my keys, cash, and wallet, sweep my gaze around the room to make sure we have everything because we aren’t coming back here. “That Durand told me to come to the auction house with my exit-money. Which is true.” Another shrug followed by a half-smile when I see Yolanda’s sharp mind already filling in the rest. “Then Kazi shows up, sees my saddle-bag with fifty grand. Things go bad. Durand gets shot. Kazi takes the money. I barely escape with my life.” My smile widens to a grin. “Then I told the Skulls Prez that although everything got fucked up and the fifty grand is gone, I’m still in Juarez, and I’ll kill Kazi to get even for Durand’s death. But then once Kazi is dead, I get to walk away from the Skulls, just like the original deal.”
