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I didn’t even have time to turn my hips before he shot his entire hand into my panties. It went in smoothly, and without any hesitance. His rough palm pushed down over my cleanly shaved mound like it had been there a thousand times before, and would be, a thousand times more.
“Troy… here?” It was all I could manage to say between my stunted breaths. He pushed me back on to a large spread of thick, padded mats.
“Why not? This is where I’m home. It’s where I do my best work. And, if I remember correctly, you wanted to see what I do with my time.”
“But… what if somebody-”
There was no use in discussing “what ifs” in Troy’s world. Time was precious when you didn’t have a safety net.
His free arm wrapped under my butt, and in an instant, I was off my feet. The big man bulled forward with me in his grasp, and pitched us both forward, sending us down on the mat with a soft thud. He cradled me against his chest so that he would absorb most of the impact.
“Ooof.” Still, some of the air was pushed out of my lungs when we landed.
“This,” he said, “is where I want you.”
I propped myself on my elbows as he caught me with a peck at the corner of my puckered mouth. “You like this, don’t you?” he whispered.
I wasn’t sure of anything anymore, outside of the fact that I was flat on my back and completely vulnerable beneath one of the most dangerous men I’d ever met.
“I…”
Troy shoved my legs apart and wriggled his body in a way that pushed my skirt up my thighs. It was a body-hugging fit. The poly-cotton fabric squeezed me so tightly that I thought it might tear at the seams.
The hard point of his hip bone bumped my labia and it sent a shiver through me. The thin gym pants he wore slid effortlessly over my wet cotton panties.
“Tonight,” he growled, “I can’t wait. I can’t go slow.”
“Take me how you want me,” I cooed. He was right. There wasn’t time for play. The tension was already too high. I needed him to fill me.
He shoved his pants and underwear down, letting his manhood spring out. As he adjusted his angle, I felt the end of it dig into the flesh of my butt. Troy let out a low sigh that made me feel just right.
He pushed his way up my skirt and grabbed a handful of my panties. He pulled on them and I pushed. They were off me in the blink of an eye. I kicked my legs, but the panties didn’t seem to want to fall any lower than my ankles, and combined with his weight on me, I was stuck in place.
It didn’t matter much. The moment was on us, and it was inevitable. Troy wrestled his shirt up and let it snap back behind his head. His arms still wore the sleeves, but his lean torso glowed bare over me. He was tan and taut, with the vibrant tone you might find on someone who spent their days on a sunny beach, and not on the streets of late-fall Chicago.
His tool pushed aggressively into me. I was wet enough to take it, but not without a bit of pain. When a whimper that I couldn’t hold back escaped my lips, Troy guided my face to his shoulder. He held it there and let me bite down lightly on his firm flesh as he sunk in deeper.
My body strained to take all of him on that first thrust. He moved at a careful, but demanding pace. When he found the spot he liked, then withdrew, I was rewarded with the pleasure I’d earned.
The temperature in me climbed as he slid out and pushed in. Every ridge and intricacy on him, I felt in the depths of me.
“Troy, you’re making me cream.”
“I’m so fucking hard; I’m gonna burst.”
I interlaced my fingers behind his neck. Troy pumped into me with long, furious strokes. He steadied himself with his hand pressed just below my navel. It pinned me to the ground so definitely, that I may as well have had a building on top of me.
When he stretched his thumb to brush my nub, I lost it. I guess he did, too.
As I squirmed around and tried to contain the spasms that took me, I felt him twitch urgently inside. He pumped twice more, letting his tight balls smack loudly against my butt, then pulled out and erupted against me.
Once he’d exercised every last demon inside of him, he lurched forward and dragged me a few feet over the cool mats. If I hadn’t been hanging on so desperately to his neck, he would have gone roughshod right over me.
Troy collapsed, again between my legs. We laid there, intertwined, as the heat from our bodies rose above us. The smooth skin on his washboard stomach made him glide against my still-slick tightness.
He was perfect right there. I knew I couldn’t ever completely contain a man like him. He wasn’t made to be contained. The thought made me remember the gun. I was so scared when I first saw it. He said it was for protection… but why? If there was anybody in this city who could take care of himself without the need of a weapon, it was him. It just didn’t make sense.
There was also the way his gaze hit the floor when he noticed me looking at it. It was the first time since I’d met him that he had anything in his eyes other than lust or challenge.
If he was lying to me about the gun, I didn’t know what I was supposed to do. The professional side of me made things very clear. A felon in possession of a firearm required immediate termination from the program and a call to law enforcement. The personal side of our relationship muddied things. I cared about him now. And not just in a “charitable” kind of way. What if Troy needed that gun more than I knew?
The possibilities rolled around in my head like loose marbles. The only thing I could do was believe him. As I laid there, looking at the ceiling, I prayed it wouldn’t come back to bite me in the ass.
Troy
That girl was wild. After we left the gym, she insisted on dragging me back to her place. I was up for it. There wasn’t one thing about her personality that suggested she had that kind of streak in her, but it was there. She blew my mind with it.
It was almost two when I walked in. I dropped on the floor and spread my arms and legs out to stretch my back. I was supposed to be at the gym in about four hours, but I felt like I’d already had my workout. Still, there was no way I was going to miss out on a training session with a fight scheduled just a couple of weeks away. I wanted to be as sharp as possible.
Just as I closed my eyes to drift off to sleep, there was a shuffling of feet outside my door.
Of course there was. Ain’t no rest for the wicked.
I sat bolt upright. There was a thud on the door and I sprang to my feet. Someone must have watched me come in. I hadn’t even kicked my shoes of yet, so I ran straight for it. I flung the door open, but no one was there. I heard footsteps to my right.
Two dark figures were sprinting across the parking lot. I took up the chase after them. They had a good-sized lead on me, but I doubted they had the stamina to keep it.
Who was messing with me now?
I ran as hard as I could out to the street. There was no moon in the sky so I was having to navigate by way of the streetlamps. Fuck! Where’d they go?
I caught a flash of movement; they’d crossed to the other side. I resumed pursuit. If these were just some asshole kids trying to pull a prank, I’d make ‘em regret it.
“Hurry up,” I heard one yell to the other. “He’s catchin’ up.”
You’re damn right I am.
They turned down an alley. At the end of it, there was a six-foot retaining wall. I knew I’d make up some ground there. Now, I was close enough to make out a little more detail. I didn’t recognize either one, but I could tell they were both wearing all black clothes. One of them was carrying something in his left hand.
The first guy got over the wall without a problem, but his buddy struggled to make it. I charged down the alley to reach him. Just as I made a grab for his kicking foot, the first guy reached back and hauled his buddy the rest of the way over the barrier. I heard them both land with a thud on the other side.
The near-miss must have scared the hell out of them because by the time I planted my foot in the wall and catapulted over it, they w
ere up and running like jackrabbits toward the street on the other side.
“Give it up,” I yelled, as I closed in again. “I’m not even close to slowing down.”
They turned the corner less than fifteen feet in front of me. I hooked a hand at the edge of the building and went around it like I was fired out of a sling shot.
The sounds of car doors closing made me break stride. Taillights flared red and lit up the brick face of the building. They had a ride waiting.
The tires squealed but I didn’t give up the chase just yet. “Go, go, go!”
The smell of toasted rubber filled my nostrils as I grabbed on to the car’s spoiler and ran with it a few more steps before resigning to the fact that I couldn’t keep pace with a combustion engine.
They were still screaming when the jumped the curb and blew recklessly through a 7-11 parking lot, before getting it under control and taking the ramp on to the interstate.
“Fuck me,” I cursed, trying to catch my breath. Just like the guys, the car didn’t look familiar either. I hoped it was just kids messing around, but seeing as how they had a getaway car staged, I knew it wouldn’t take me too many guesses to figure out who was behind it.
I made the slow jog back to my place. In the back of my mind, I knew that this was going to be a sleepless night. Minutes ago I was in a peaceful place, ready to drift off to dreamland with good thought’s in my head about a five-foot-seven blonde beauty. But now, I was so amped up, I’d be lucky if I could wind down enough by tomorrow night.
When I reached the wall, I kicked something in the darkness. Normally, I wouldn’t have thought twice, but it felt soft and pliable against my toe. It seemed out of place.
I scoured the dark earth in front of me by sweeping my foot back and forth until I found it again. When I kicked it the second time, the first thought that jumped out at me was: leather. I bent down to pick it up.
It was a wallet—one of their wallets to be specific. I shoved it in my back pocket and launched myself back over the wall. There was a light on the other side where I’d be better equipped to inspect its contents.
Jay Anderson was the name on the license. I didn’t recognize the name or the face. Inside were a two credit cards and a few dollars. I promptly plucked those out and handed them to the homeless gentleman laying on the sidewalk next to me. “Here ya go, buddy.” I felt bad for disturbing his sleep.
Closing the wallet, I tried to figure out the situation. The guy in the picture certainly didn’t look like someone who’d be involved with Ortiz, but who was I to judge? He was a clean cut guy, thirty-one years old according to his license, and he was an organ donor. It didn’t exactly line up with the “street thug” style.
