Hi! 😊 I saw your post, and I was wondering, only as long as it's OK, if I could please send another request for Bishop with number 2. "Yeah, I like it when you bend over. Means I can spank you at the same time. "? Only if Bishop or that prompt hasn't already been chosen, though!
Hi lovely! I already had someone request this (which was actually no. 1, the list might not have shown as updated on reblogs after the edits to the original) so I will write for you what no. 2 actually was. Hope you enjoy it!
Slight smut leaning below the cut, minors DNI!
He wasn't used to it, women being forward with him. To Bishop, though, it was like putting a lit match in way too close proximity to his gas tank; he'd certainly combust under the heat of it.
And that's why you did it.
"So, mister presidente," you drawled, eyeing him with unconcealed appreciation, your eyes as brazen as the words you chose to immediately follow the wandering of your stare. "How about you take me off someplace quiet and fuck me until it isn't quiet there any longer?"
He licked his lip, dropping his head as he laughed. "I have a better proposition. How about I take you home, and give you a seat on my face?"
You arch an eyebrow, sinking your drink one gulp. "That works for me."
Another chapter and wishes of a very happy Friday to my beautiful audience! :D
Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen Eighteen
Words - 3,763
Warnings - 18+ content throughout, Minors DNI. Recounts of kidnap, child trafficking, physical/verbal/sexual abuse.
4am. It was not a time Emma was used to seeing, unless she was up late being railed into a new shape by Guero, or enjoying the pleasures of partying. She knew Lee would be even less impressed, with how much she thrived upon a good night’s sleep.
The very lady was waiting outside as they came out, Gilly yawning in the passenger seat. With their bags dumped in the back of her Escalade and Axl dropped next door for a stay with his uncle Tyrone (who proclaimed ‘imma spoil the dude to death, man!’) they climbed in, still half asleep. Since Emma had no passport or ID yet, Lee, Gilly and Guero were sharing the driving, just over three hours each to make the ten-and-a-half-hour journey rather than flying.
“I feel bad, that we can’t fly and it’s because of me,” she huffed, Lee hitting the freeway, the engine roaring as the six hundred and eighty-two horses beneath the hood all charged to gallop.
“How come you ain’t got that sorted yet?” Gilly asked, Emma sipping from her bottle of cherry Coke, burping quietly.
“Because of a point Guero made,” she began, tightening the lid and placing it in her lap. “Since I’ve been a missing person, there’s obviously still a file open on me, one which will be closed when I show up. I’d likely have to be interviewed by the police over where I’ve been and who with for so long as well, too many questions would be asked.
“If I ratted on Rocco, my worry about being snatched would turn into a worry about being shot in the head. I was going to go down the new identity route and buy fake documents, but depending on how all of this goes, I may not need to.”
Lee looked at her in the rearview mirror, winking with a smile. “Here’s hoping, sugar.” She then paused before noting something glaring in similarity about the way all four had chosen to dress. “I can’t help but fuckin’ notice, I love the way all four of us try to look a little less like the tattooed reprobates that we are and instead, end up looking like the goddamned Addam’s Family.”
Every single person within the car was donned in black, all of them beginning to laugh when they noticed that their attempt at semi-smartness had them appearing as if they were attending a funeral.
“Goths R Us, man,” Gilly snorted with amusement, beginning to whistle the theme tune to the aforementioned family movie, Emma giving the double finger click at the required point, too.
“Well, I gotta say it, sunshine. You suit being a redhead,” Lee then spoke, turning to look at her, thinking how pretty her bestie looked in the long, red wig with tumbling waves.
“Doesn’t she, though?” Guero chimed, winking at Emma. “Maybe a little too much. Goddamn women, pulling some Jessica fucking Rabbit magic on a man."
"What is it about you guys and that woman?" Lee cried, moving her car to the middle lane to overtake a slow-moving vehicle ahead. "She's a fuckin’ drawing!"
"Yeah, and I'd nail her until I erased her, I swear to god," he chirped, Gilly busting into hysterics.
"Same, bro. I'd fuck her until her colours ran!" Everyone fell apart in fits of laughter, Lee thinking that already it was more than worth her 3am start and missing her precious sleep for the sheer entertainment value alone. She wasn’t the only one glad of it, the comic relief provided by her boyfriend and Gilly just the thing Emma needed to take her mind off the fact that with every mile that passed, she was nearing the man she feared most.
By the seven-hour point, Guero returned to her side in the back while Gilly took his turn behind the wheel, her nerves were palpable. Looking out of the window while gnawing on the side of her thumb, she saw a hand reach for hers in her peripherals, turning to watch Guero softly shake his head with a faint smile.
“You’re stressing.” Pulling her hand away from her mouth, he grasped it in his, shifting over a little closer and wrapping his arm around her. “You gotta stop. Nothing bad is gonna happen.”
“Easy to say that,” she muttered, leaning into him.
“Yeah, it fucking is,” he snorted, kissing her head. “Cuz’ I’ll fucking finish him if he lays a finger on you, and you know this.” His hand tightened its grip on hers, his nostrils flaring a little. The rage towards Rocco still swirled just as tempestuously as ever, along with his already short fuse.
He softened a little then, realising she likely didn’t need to hear it, or worry about him being able to hang onto his fiery temper. “I get it, you feeling nervous. It’ll be alright, though.”
Nervous was somewhat of an understatement, Emma feeling like she wanted to throw up as Gilly parked outside the hotel just over three hours later.
“So, what I’m thinking is that after talking to Obispo, these guys seemed to be enjoying everything the resort had to offer. Squash, golfing, casino, etc,” Lee began, after the guys had gone to check in. “Which means that I can hang around in the bar, keep an eye on the comings and goings of ‘em. Except, fuck. I don’t know what he fuckin’ looks like.”
Emma pulled out her phone, calling up Google. As with a lot of notable members of the mafia, Vincent’s face was very easily accessible. Clicking on his mugshot from an arrest after a large shoot out he’d been arrested for his part in around a decade ago, she turned the screen. “Like that, but a little aged. He’s very distinctive.”
Lee had already taken a good look at the hotel layout, scanning the pictures and seeing that from the large bar and restaurant area, the front desk and entrance was visible. She was entirely happy to play barfly with Gilly while Emma hid in her room. “Alright, and there’s my visual. He looks... intense.”
That was one way to describe a man who had once chopped off someone’s feet and fed them to Diavolo, his Akita. “He is, he’s very formidable.” Her voice was small, the quietness of her tone reminding Lee of her demeanour back when they’d first met, minus the shaking and the stuttered words.
Reaching for Emma’s hand, she cocked her head. “It’s fuckin’ gonna be fine. You forget I’m ex-military. I know how to run a fuckin’ smooth operation, sunshine.” She winked, Emma feeling at ease, squeezing her hand back before the arrival of Gilly and Guero parted them, hopping out of the car.
“Lobby is all clear from anyone of the Italian American persuasion,” Gilly spoke, swinging his rucksack over his shoulder. “Let’s go.” Taking Guero’s hand, she gripped it tightly, adjusting her sunglasses before beginning to walk. She felt as if she had a serpent writhing around in her guts, some cold, spiny creature that thrashed angrily, her heartbeat escalating, expecting him to pop up at any moment and snatch her again.
Heading in through the glass doors that slid open with a silky glide, her eyes were everywhere beneath her oversized aviators, Guero pulling her to the right, past the front desk and through to the safety of the ground floor hallway. Immediately, she felt herself unravel a little.
“Okay, we’ll see you guys at some point, I guess. I will call with details from my little stakeout,” Lee spoke, she and Gilly continuing down the hall as Guero opened the door to their room.
As soon as she was inside, she felt the creeping sensation at her back abate, yet she was a nervous mess, riddled with anxiety, wanting to go straight into her medication bottle and swallow back a couple of doses to calm herself. Taking more than her standard dose tended to have the opposite effect, though.
Reaching for Guero, she wrapped herself around him, burying her face against the side of his neck. Safe person. Safe person scent. It transported her back to a time where he was the only person she’d trusted while in the thick of her anxious duress, but for that moment her body refused to comply with the logic her brain was desperately trying to convey.
“Breathe, baby. It’s okay.” he told her, hands stroking her back, feeling her chest rising and falling rapidly against his, her heart pounding hard. He closed his eyes, arms tightening around her, a tide of anger rising within him. She’d worked so hard in the last near eleven months to recover, and now there she was again, trembling and frightened.
The urge to go and wait outside of Rocco’s room and bypass the plan completely, to shoot him in the head as soon as he laid eyes on the vile, abusive, child trafficking, raping sack of shit who’d once again reduced his sweetheart to a nervous wreck was almost all encompassing. He knew though that would land them in the kind of trouble none of them would survive, taking out a mafia boss without the agreement of those who served under him.
He couldn’t even imagine an alternative to Calabrese condoning the hit, or being told that the Romano family would handle it internally, should he be in complete agreement with the proposal they were bringing to him. None of them could live unless he died, and Emma? She’d be returned to Staten Island, with nobody to save her.
The thought of being dead and her alone in the world had been on his mind so much, he’d even considered fleeing with her to Mexico, should things not go in the favour of the Mayans. He loved his club, but he wouldn’t be a sitting duck, waiting for the weight of the mafia to crush them.
He believed in standing to fight, and his loyalty to the club tugged strongly at him, but he was smart enough not to remain on a sinking ship if he saw water beginning to pour in. He had not come to such a conclusion easily, either. His simple desire to survive outweighed anything else, now that it potentially could come down to that.
Realising he was spiralling into his own thoughts, he shook himself from it all, being present for her, as he needed to be before anything else. Holding her close had begun to calm her, Emma finally straightening to kiss him, resting her forehead to his.
“And I’m calmer now.” Her thumbs stroked over the flecks of stubble dotting his cheeks. “Thanks for always been so steadying when I need you to be.”
Smiling, he kissed her again. “You’re welcome, and good. I fucking hate seeing you like that, all cuz’ of him.”
Sucking in a breath over her teeth, she drew her shoulders up, the weight of her sigh tugging them down again. She hated feeling like that, too, everything rushing to the surface once more. “Let’s pray he isn’t going to be around much longer to do it, huh?”
It went without saying, he thought.
They hung around in the room for a few hours, Lee calling at just before seven, informing Emma that the mob guys had all just arrived in the bar for a drink, before being told by one of the staff that their cars were ready. With it looking like they were heading out elsewhere for the night, she was safe to go and eat dinner in the restaurant, a prospect that made her feel nervous, but that she participated in all the same. She changed into a long, tight grey dress, having to fend off Guero before they left.
“What’s the matter with you?” she laughed upon sitting at the table, Lee virtually vibrating in her seat opposite. “You look a little jazzed, buddy.”
“Been on the fuckin’ coffee all afternoon! Changed to sparkly water about halfway through, but I didn’t wanna get loaded propping up the bar and I think choosing to be caffeinated might’ve been a little bit of a fuckin’ mistake!”
Gilly snorted with laughter, shaking his head. “Dude, I told you to get decaf.”
“Can’t ever do that, fuckin’ decaf is bullshit! I’ll be fine, they gotta pool here and I brought my swimsuit. I’ll go swim it off, do some lengths, get all the energy out, y’know?”
Her very wide-eyed demeanour had them in soft fits, Lee’s hand shaking upon her beer glass, making her food order at a hundred miles an hour to the entertained looking waiter.
“And I gotta deal with this all night.” Gilly laughed, receiving an elbow from the hopped-up lady herself. She seemed to calm a little for eating, a firm but polite no given when the waiter asked them if they wanted coffee once they’d finished, calling it an evening at 10pm. Well, Lee and Gilly stayed up to see if Vincent returned back at a decent hour, but Emma and Guero headed straight back to their room.
Opening the door for her, he gestured that she should enter first. “There, you get me being a gentleman just once, before I turn straight animal.” He smacked her ass, kicking the door shut, Emma removing her boots and socks.
“Love, you’re always straight animal,” she purred, winking at him. He snaked his arms around her, moving her hair, softly biting the side of her neck with a playful growl. Those nibbles turned to kisses, hands pawing at her. Grasping his hoodie, she pulled it over his head, her nails gently raking down his chest as his mouth met hers, manoeuvring to the bed, pushing him onto it.
“I have to take this off, my head is like a furnace.” Pulling off the wig, she unclipped her hair and let it tumble loose, messy waves framing her face, Guero sitting up to watch keenly as she began to lower her dress. The way his eyebrows rose significantly at the reveal of her black, diamond mesh underwear tugged at the corners of her mouth.
“Wow. Get the fuck on me, right now.”
Ahh, the desired effect.
“Is that what you want, hmm?”
His eyes swept her with desire, his cock beginning to harden at just the sight of her, nodding in response to her words.
“Yeah, I know what you want,” she spoke, coming to sit astride him, pushing her fingers into his mouth, her nipples hard against his chest through the thin mesh of her bra. “You want to pin me down and fuck my tight little pussy until I gush all over your cock, don’t you? Mmm, I love it when you get me so wet that it starts running over my thighs, when you hold me down and pound me so hard, I get dizzy. Yeah, I love it like that.” She ran her tongue up the side of his neck, her hips beginning to gyrate, grinding herself against the big erection she felt tenting his jeans.
He groaned barbarously around the suck upon her fingers, his teeth clamping in a hard bite, Emma pulling them from between his gorgeous lips before her mouth locked to his. Their kisses rained sensuality and steamy heat, Guero lying back on the bed, the feel of pristine hotel linens sumptuous against his bare back, hands travelling all over her as he moaned against her tongue.
If there was a sweeter way to kill time, he was yet to experience it.
Moving beneath her, his body topped hers, pressing her into the bed as his hands slid to make short work of her underwear, sitting up only to shed the remainder of his clothes before his mouth was on hers once more. He kissed her with all the love and heated desire he felt for her, hand trailing down her thigh as he shifted his weight a little, fingers skimming over the sumptuously dewy petals of her cunt.
That first touch had her arching off the bed, her back bending like a crescent moon, her moan rich and full bodied, his thick, clever fingers spreading her wetness around, settling upon her clit and beginning to circle. His touch was so perfect, Emma mewling softly as she felt her core ache, his breaths heavy against her neck as he moved to kiss her elegant throat, a soft groan rumbling his as he pushed two fingers into her.
“Oh god, you’re so fucking wet for me already.” He rumbled, his mouth finding hers, kissing her with all the heat of a furnace, those keen fingers seeking out her sweet spots. Focused rotations forced soft little exclamations from her, Guero drinking them down like wine as his lips locked with hers. “Yeah, that feel good, baby?”
She couldn’t even form words, delight tumbling through her, merely uttering a soft little moan as her head fell back on the bed, his fingers entering, rotating, dragging back, moving his thumb to her clit to stroke it in perfect rhythm. It always boosted his ego a little, seeing how easily he could make her sail into bliss with just two fingers.
It didn’t take long for him to kiss a sizzling path down her body, his mouth craving to be quenched with what drenched his fingers, removing them, sucking her wetness from them with a hungry grunt. He pushed her legs wider so she splayed for him, delving his tongue right into her folds, the syrupy wet of her pussy drenching his mouth.
His tongue dragged her eagerly, long licks from her glossy opening to her clit making her very bones shudder in ecstasy, Guero groaning, watching her body undulate before him. The rolling heat of his tongue pressed flat as it circled her clit, sending waves of bliss through her, her little whimpers filling the air, his hands gripped at her waist as he felt her puddling against his tongue.
She looked down, watching him do it, gasping, her fingers raking through his hair. “You look so fucking hot with a mouthful of my pussy.”
He grinned against her, sucking on her clit. “And you look the same while you’re getting it ate, mamas.” He winked, closing his eyes, groaning as he took a mouthful of her, loving the feeling of her thighs skimming against his face as she writhed.
He sucked upon her like ripe fruit, his groans deep, like boulders rolling over one another, the heat radiating up her spine as she panted, watching him tipping her further into mindlessness before her eyes closed and her head fell back. The flickers of the very tip of his tongue working in speed over her clit were too much, but not enough, her body shaking in response of being so lit up. It felt like an ice storm meeting magma, her body gleaming for him, Guero pushing his fingers back within her heat, burrowing deep.
Placing a suck upon her clit, his cheeks hollowed, the pressure gentle at first, fingers circling her walls, entering her then with rapidity, that suck intensifying until he had her crying out softly. His hunger to devour had him tearing his fingers from her, covering her entire slit in the thirsty suck of his mouth, grunting against her folds as his tongue laved her incessantly.
Reaching for his jeans, he undid them, sliding them and his boxers down, kicking himself out of them with impatience, the need to be within her rocketing through him. His heart thundered in his chest as anticipation skittered over him, kissing his way back to her mouth, lips meeting hers in a hot mesh of filthy indulgence, his words matching.
“Wanna spread those gorgeous legs and let me fuck you, huh? Is that what you want, for me to bury my big dick right up deep in this pretty little pussy, huh blue eyes?” Those words fuelled the epicentre of her bonfire, Emma nodding, their kisses scorching as he moved between her legs and glided into her, her walls tensing on his shaft, dragging a groan from the depths of him. He sat back on his heels, taking root in her, his eyes watching the sight of it, his cock sinking in and out, her wetness bathing him thickly.
He fell to her then, the blinding need to chase the fire roaring through his veins consuming him, his flames catching at her edges as she wrapped her legs around him, their mouths meeting messily.
“Oh god,” she gasped, clasping his face, seduced further by the look of dark lust pooling his near black eyes. “Fuck me, yeah, that’s it. Oh, fuck me!”
And he did, pounding into her relentlessly, hitting her so deep, shocks skittered through her. He slowed then, wanting to make it last longer than the rampant charge his arousal was dictating, pulling himself back, thrusting a little shallower, almost retreating, slipping back deeply. His head dipped, sucking her nipples in turn, tongue circling them with a hungry grunt, his hands stroking paths of blissful heat up and down her thighs as his cock hit her deep, deep, deep.
“Mmmm, fuck. You look so goddamn pretty, spread all around my dick. Got me so fucking drenched, beautiful.” he groaned, sitting back up again, the sight so steeped in erotic heat, he had to close his eyes for a moment, those tingles pulsing too rapidly, the desire to chase his release held fast, slowing, long lashes parting again as he stared down at her. “That feel good, huh?”
“Oh, you’re fucking amazing!” she cried out, her body jolting when he brought his thumb to her clit, tight circles spreading glimmers through her, pleasure melting down her spine and puddling at her cunt, covering him further in her dew. She raised herself up on her elbows, her hips shunting against each of his thrusts, fucking him back with purpose as she let her gaze fall to watch it.
He reached beneath her chin, making her focus on him, his forehead resting to hers as he stared at her with so much love, her heart felt full to burst. Stroking his face, she felt like she could see her entire future in the dark sparkle of his lust blown pupils, nuzzling him, whispering her love, sharing kisses steeped in sweet, yet burning heat.
Her heart jolted suddenly with the weight of it, the realisation of exactly what she would lose if Vincent didn’t agree. He had to, because there was no way she would willingly or easily part from Guero now she’d finally found him.
“Doesn’t she, though?” Guero chimed, winking at Emma. “Maybe a little too much. Goddamn women, pulling some Jessica fucking Rabbit magic on a man."
"What is it about you guys and that woman?" Lee cried, moving her car to the middle lane to overtake a slow-moving vehicle ahead. "She's a fuckin’ drawing!"
"Yeah, and I'd nail her until I erased her, I swear to god," he chirped, Gilly busting into hysterics.
considering it's fucking early in the morning and what kind of mission they're about to go on, they're in a fairly good mood which is good so far.
“Yeah, it fucking is,” he snorted, kissing her head. “Cuz’ I’ll fucking finish him if he lays a finger on you, and you know this.” His hand tightened its grip on hers, his nostrils flaring a little. The rage towards Rocco still swirled just as tempestuously as ever, along with his already short fuse.
good luck babes, be fucking careful. and come back safe and sound.
The thought of being dead and her alone in the world had been on his mind so much, he’d even considered fleeing with her to Mexico, should things not go in the favour of the Mayans. He loved his club, but he wouldn’t be a sitting duck, waiting for the weight of the mafia to crush them.
He believed in standing to fight, and his loyalty to the club tugged strongly at him, but he was smart enough not to remain on a sinking ship if he saw water beginning to pour in. He had not come to such a conclusion easily, either. His simple desire to survive outweighed anything else, now that it potentially could come down to that.
the reality of that is straight up terrifying. they've all been close to death many times before I'm sure but this is on a whole other level.
He reached beneath her chin, making her focus on him, his forehead resting to hers as he stared at her with so much love, her heart felt full to burst. Stroking his face, she felt like she could see her entire future in the dark sparkle of his lust blown pupils, nuzzling him, whispering her love, sharing kisses steeped in sweet, yet burning heat.
Her heart jolted suddenly with the weight of it, the realisation of exactly what she would lose if Vincent didn’t agree. He had to, because there was no way she would willingly or easily part from Guero now she’d finally found him.
SWEET BABY JESUS THAT WAS SO FUCKING HAWT, the kind of hot where after reading even your neighbors need a cigarette omg <3 <3 what a way to distract each other from the dire situation they're about to be in. but it's exactly this dire situation that makes one realize what one truly has in life and what they would do to protect it, and if it takes fleeing to Mexico then that's how it has to be. just... be together and be safe.
Congratulations on the 7k!! 🥰 Please could I have number 3? "If you don't stop it, I'm gonna make you regret teasing me" with Guero? Only if he hasn't been chosen already, though!
Oh, I could kiss you for choosing this one! I WANTED SOMEONE TO PAIR THIS WITH HIM. I love it when this happens! <3
Smut below the cut, minors DNI!
It looks innocent enough, you sitting upon your boyfriend's lap. What isn't so innocent about it is the way you're wriggling ever so slightly right against his dick, in a way others might not be able to see, but how Guero can definitely feel.
"You're in so much trouble, mamacita."
Of course, your response is to act unassuming. "Why, though?"
"You know why." Leaning forward, he lays a kiss to the side of your neck, a press of lips that elicits a shiver. "If you don't stop it, I'm gonna make you regret teasing me."
You can't help yourself, or curb the desire to misbehave, wriggling again, feeling the hot, hard press of him against your butt. Without warning, he pushes you off his lap as he stands, taking your hand and leading you over to the restroom, a few of the guys whistling lasciviously at the connotations.
Once locked inside, he has you bracketed against the sink, hands tugging your dress up as his mouth rains kisses over your neck with greedy finesse, tongue darting to tease your collarbones. A yank snaps your thong, Guero pushing himself between your legs, eyes darker than molasses staring at you with scarcely bridled lust.
Freeing his cock, he grazes the head through your soaked folds, a gravelled groan rumbling his throat as he breaches you. You yield to take him perfectly, your walls hugging around the thick intrusion, thighs clamping to his waist tightly.
"Yeah, that's what you were wanting, huh? Wanted this big cock splitting your pussy apart, didn't you?"
His grunted words streak heat up your spine, your confirmation a whine of bliss as your tongue rolls against his, both of you panting hard as your bodies drive together with fury.
You can feel yourself racing to your ascension rapidly, tingles bursting beneath your skin as your hands grasp at his shoulders, his thick, wide chest pressing to you as he kisses you with filthy heat, his cock beginning to twitch.
He comes apart with a groan, knowing he has you teetering, a wicked glint flashing in his eyes as he slips from you, cock spurting across your thigh. He traces his fingers through the warm trickle of cum, lifting his hand to your mouth and forcing them between your lips.
"Told you I'd make you regret teasing me." He licks your cheek, winking, leaving you there to burn in your breathless fury that he just fucked you so amazingly, yet with no finish. Not for you, at least.
Being used and then denied like that is heaven 🥵😍 Your writing for the smut is beautifully detailed and graphic as always. I love this side to Guero. Thank you so much again! 💖
A huge thank you to everyone for being such a lovely audience :) I appreciate you more than you know.
Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen Seventeen
Words - 3,898
Warnings - 18+ content throughout, Minors DNI. Recounts of kidnap, child trafficking, physical/verbal/sexual abuse.
“Look, I’m sorry I didn’t stand up for you more with EZ. It’s a shitty position to be in, though, caught between my girl and my club. Especially the fucking president of the club, a guy I have a lotta respect for. I’m not good with it, though, the fact he scared you.”
Pausing, Guero leaned to her, kissing the side of her neck. “Saying that, though, despite the fact I knew you were scared, you fucking stood your ground. Baby got spicy! Made me real proud.”
“What can I say?” she mused, her eyebrows rising. “I’d had a couple a’ five beers by the time you guys arrived back. Had a little courage bolstering my spice. He came and apologised though, so we’re good.” Her eyes then found an annoyance that had been bothering her for the past hour, lifting her chin. “That over there in the leather shorts, I’m not so good with.”
Guero followed her line of vision, receiving a wave and a smile he only acknowledged with a slight nod. “Yeah, that’s Lauryn. She hasn’t been around much, guessed she came with one of the guys from another charter. She um, she tends to get around.”
Her mouth tightened a fraction, cocking her head a little. “And has she ever gotten around you?”
He shook his head. “Nope, she don’t do it for me.” Sliding his finger along the dip in her dress, he hooked it, pulling her close. “You’re the one who does it for me.” He kissed her with heat, his hands sliding down to grasp her butt, Emma hoping that his display of affection made Lauryn get the message.
She wasn’t the jealous type, and she knew he’d been with plenty of the bike bunnies who hung around the club. She’d asked and he’d told her. For the most part, as soon as those girls saw the guys become committed to one woman, they backed off. Lauryn wasn’t one of them.
“Yup,” Lee burped into her hand, pointing over to where the girl stood with her back to them a short time later. “She made a play for Obispo one time. Fuckin’ cracked her with a pool cue for it. Ain’t got no shame, that one. If she wants a specific dick, doesn’t fuckin’ matter to her if that dick is occupied, she’ll sniff around to see if there’s a chance of swiping it. I don’t do slut shaming, go get your fill is what I say, but not with another woman’s man. That’s low-down behaviour, sick shit, messed up, man.”
Lauryn then turned, lifting her chin. “Yeah, I’m talking about your trashy ass, homegirl!” Draping an arm around Emma’s shoulders, she fixed her with a look of defiance, the girl turning back to whoever she was talking to. “Absolute fuckin’ shit show.”
“She seems it, and I am in no fucking mood to deal with that tonight,” Emma stated, Lee softly applauding.
Guero looked entertained by that statement, his grin wide. “Spicy boo got all the heat tonight!”
“I fucking have, and she can have it if she tries me.”
“Yes, sugar! If she continues making eyes at your guy, you need to get over there and set her straight!” Lee roared, hiccupping.
“Oh god,” a nearby Angel sighed, shaking his head as he walked over. “Tiger is out of the damned cage. First you give my brother a face full of knuckles, and now you’re yelling at everyone.”
“Not everyone, just her,” Lee chirped, bolting back more of her drink.
“Bish is gonna gag you before the night is out.”
Lee grinned widely, giving him a little soft poke in the chest. “Don’t you threaten me with a good time!”
His head shaking continued, wrapping an arm around her. “Nothin’ but fucking trouble when you’re drunk.” As it happened, it wasn’t Lee’s actions that would lead to trouble that night, the girls heading back inside with a few of the guys to congregate at the bar, Emma going to use the bathroom. When she came back out, it was to a sight that displeased the hell out of her.
“Told you, I ain’t interested,” she could just about hear Guero state over the roar of Ace of Spades by Motorhead, Lauryn attempted to drape herself around him. He then looked up, catching her eye, stepping back and nodding in her direction as he took as seat at the bar again. “My girl is right there, you need to fucking quit.”
Her jaw tightened, eyeing her with the kind of venom that she might not have had if she hadn’t been ten beers in. Unfortunately for Lauryn, though, she was, and her give a fuck meter was as unflinching as her anger.
“Oh, man,” Angel spoke, turning to his side to witness her death glare, cringing slightly. “You gonna give us all a hair pulling chick fight? C’mon, it’ll be awesome!”
Reaching behind him, she yanked the knife from his belt before he could stop her. “I’ll fucking give you more than that.” Storming around the bar, Lauryn’s look of defiance was met with a hand to her throat, Emma driving her across the space, men all around turning to look as the object of her rage was pinned against the side of the door.
“Get the fuck off of me!” she yelled, Emma taking the knife and slamming it straight into the wood, an inch from the side of her head. The look of fear that flooded Lauryn’s face was instant.
"Oh, oh did that scare you?" She exclaimed, sarcasm dripping, yanking the knife from the wood and pressing it against her throat. "Yeah, I'm not what you thought I was, am I?"
While Lauryn was being held against the side of the doorframe, almost every single pair of eyes within the club watched it happen, Guero sitting there stunned. Well, stunned and...
"Bro, if this kicks off any further, will you go grab my girl?" he muttered to Bottles.
Tearing his eyes from the scene, he adjusted his glasses, frowning slightly. "Yeah, but why can't you?"
Guero shook his head, the corners of his mouth upturning. "Can't even walk right now. My dick is too hard. Damn, that's hot."
Bottles snorted, almost spraying his beer, Angel leaning in. "No disrespect, dog, but yeah. Mine too."
While the guys had their quiet moment of exalting how arousing the sight of an angered woman was, the angered woman in question continued making sure her feelings were heard.
"Listen to me, if you fucking wave your pussy anywhere near my guy again, I swear I will cut that shitty tattoo right off your face. Am I making myself clear, puttana?"
Lauryn nodded, eyes wide, feeling embarrassment rise in her throat. Still, she swallowed hard and lifted her chin, at least attempting not to look as frightened as she felt at having a sharp knife held to her throat. "Yeah, you are."
Smirking, Emma lowered the blade. "Good, now get the fuck out of here." Giving her a last, disapproving sweep with her eyes, she finally released the hard grasp that had held her throat, Lauryn gasping as she was let go, moving from the clubhouse rapidly.
Walking back to Guero, his eyes still like saucers, she handed an equally stunned Angel his knife back. “Thank you, buddy.” She then picked up a shot of tequila and sank it, her eyes flitting between the guys, all stupefied by her display of mettle. “What?”
“You!” Bottles laughed, reaching to nudge her arm friendlily with a fist. “You and your bad-assery, gone fried up your man’s brain. Look at him! He’s malfunctioned, needs his operating system restarting.”
She was just about to reply when two arms wrapped around her shoulders, a set of lips pressing into her cheek. “That’s how you fuckin’ do it! Bitch got her shit rocked,” Lee exclaimed. “Proud of ya, sunshine.”
Guero was still on mute, but the look in his eyes, oh. It spoke many words, all of which Emma understood very clearly. Sinking the rest of his beer, he also downed a shot before sliding off the bar stool and promptly throwing her over his shoulder.
“Woah, okay!” she giggled, hanging onto the back of his kutte. “Where are we going?”
He chuckled, low and dirty, his hand pounding off her ass in a hard spank. “To restart my operating system.” He carried her with a dark tide of lust shadowing his insides, through the gate and out into the darkness of the yard, through the piles of abandoned, rusting metal, his eyes scanning from side to side.
The still partially shiny metal of a large, double doored fridge caught his attention, carrying her to it. Letting her slide from his shoulder, he pinned her against the structure with his chest before she could reach the ground, her legs tightening around him.
“Damn, baby,” he panted, pulling at his belt buckle, running the tip of his tongue up her neck. “You’re gonna get railed so fucking hard.”
They kissed with furious hunger, Guero feeling a ravenous desire tumbling over his bones, yanking his jeans undone and pushing them down his thighs, pulling her underwear aside and dropping her onto his cock with a rumbling grunt. He teeth imbedded in her lower lip, tongue rolling against hers as he speared her with deep, rapid thrusts, pulverising her insides, her wail rending the air.
He was savage with her, a ravenous delight that tumbled through him and into her, the thick drag of his cock filling and emptying her with absolutely nothing short of carnal fury, the remaining shelves within the fridge all beginning to clatter with the force he fucked her against it with.
“If getting mad at people does this to you, I might have to do it more often,” she panted, crying out as her walls flexed around him, feeling the coil within her tightening. He was just about to tell her how her spicy temper worked like an accelerant upon his desire, when she continued. “Oh, fuck, fuck, that cock is so fucking big! Mmm, yeah, fuck me harder. Fucking split me in two.”
And oh, how he did after hearing those sinfully dirty words. It roared over them both like a forest fire, the flames of their release scorching their nerves, leaving them both panting and trembling in the wake of such torrid ferocity.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” she panted, resting her forehead to his as he pulled out and set her back on her feet. “Doubt I’ll be able to walk after that.”
He chuckled, kissing her hotly. “You did say split you in two, my spicy lil’ boo.” She walked as if she had been as well, Guero laughing to himself as they walked back to continue with the debauchery. They left at close to 4am, getting home via a cab since while not wasted, both were a little unsteady at that point. Stripping off, they let their clothes fall into a heap, throwing themselves into bed and curling up.
Alcohol was the strong sleeping tonic that pulled them both into slumber, neither Emma’s hissing nor Guero’s brontosaurus snoring hampering it. It was unfortunate that for the former, her sleep was not restful, though.
She recognised her dream surroundings immediately, the huge, white and oak kitchen, people buzzing around, she and Marie preparing little trays of appetisers for party guests.
“Here, darling. Make sure that plate stays separate, it’s for my ma,” Marie spoke, pointing at the little blue plate she had prepared a selection of gluten free snacks upon. “Unfortunate, isn't it? An Italian who can’t have gluten! Mother Mary, did you ever hear such a thing?”
Emma turned to her side, smiling, her eyes prickling as she played out her role in the dream, exactly as it had happened in life. “You’d be a nightmare if you couldn’t have proper bruschetta, mom.”
Marie nudged her with a soft elbow, chuckling as she sipped her wine. “Me and no bread, can you imagine?”
Even though just a dream, all Emma wanted to do was throw her arms around her, breathe in the scent of her Guerlain perfume, and tell her how much she missed her. Not having any kind of power over it, though, she found herself acting as she had on that night, Rocco’s fiftieth birthday there at the house, picking up the little blue plate.
“I’ll go take these out to her, she’s down by the pool.”
Marie clasped her arm, squeezing softly. “Good girl.”
Lifting the plate from the crowded island full of Marie’s beautiful, home cooked Italian delights, Emma left through the back door, walking down across the patio, smiling at guests as she passed.
“Are these for me?” Anna-Lucia greeted her with warmly, Emma proffering the plate forth.
“Yes, gluten free, just for you.”
Her smile was kind, taking the plate as she set her martini glass down on the table. “Thank you, love.”
With a little nod, Emma carried on, making herself of use by beginning to collect all the abandoned plates so she could go and place them into the dishwasher, knowing that if she didn’t, she could expect an earful of abuse or worse from Rocco. While passing through the lower part of the sprawling garden, she noticed that an earful was exactly what somebody was getting from her captor, her eyes scanning until she saw Rocco with a group of his friends, he and another in a heated exchange.
The man sure had balls, she thought, stepping up to the boss like that, Emma recognising him to be Mario, Rocco’s nephew. The exchange grew in ferociousness, Rocco suddenly lunging at him, clasping his throat and shunting him back against the children’s large, wooden playhouse. He then pulled a knife from his pocket, releasing the blade and plunging it into the wood right at the side of Mario’s head, yanking it out and holding it to his throat.
She awoke with a start.
“Mm, s’up, baby? Nightmare?”
“No,” she sighed, reaching to rub Guero’s forearm, taking a deep breath. “No, it was only a dream, but shit, it spooked me.” It hit her hard, such a realisation, that there within her subconscious lay a memory that her brain had drawn upon earlier in how she’d handled the situation with Lauryn. In wanting to make it clear that she wouldn’t tolerate such behaviour, she’d become the one thing she never wanted to be. Rocco.
Taking a breath, she leaned forward, resting her forehead to her knees. “What I did to Lauryn tonight, I behaved exactly how Rocco did one time towards his nephew. Mother fucking Mary, it was spot on, my brain must’ve drawn it out of a memory, because I just dreamed of the night I saw it happen. Christ, I’m him. I acted like he does when he’s pissed!”
“Mamas, no you ain’t. No way are you anything like that motherfucker.” Her boyfriend’s statement was staunch, Emma reaching for the nightstand lamp and switching it on.
Stretching her arms, she rested her head upon her knees again, hugging them to her chest as he stroked her back. “But what I did was, though! I went straight from his playbook, even called her a puttana, too. He used to call me that. Jesus!”
It was a hard juxtapose for Guero, since he was by nature a person who, had it been a guy sniffing around Emma, likely would have done exactly the same thing. In his world, it was the norm. Hell, he’d heard all about the time Lee had taken a pool cue to Lauryn and smacked her with it so hard it had broken after the third strike against her head. In Emma’s former world too, violence was the natural display of anger, but he saw clearly that she wasn’t comfortable with it being hers.
“Look, it’s hard for me, being a person with a real fucking bad temper and thinking your reaction was justified, but I get that you aren’t so cool with it,” he began, shrugging a little. “I might not be the best person to advise you, bearing that in mind. I dunno, I’d say maybe in future if you feel yourself getting to that point then dial it back, but again, I don’t have the best track record at doing the same.” He paused, moving forward further, resting his chin to her shoulder. “How you acted in one moment isn’t defining of who you are, though. Cuz’ you ain’t him, baby.”
Pulling back from it. What he said made sense, even though he acknowledged it was something often beyond his own capabilities, Emma saw that going forward, she had to try for it not to be out of her own grasp. Perhaps it was the fact that she knew come the following day, she’d be putting herself within his proximity again, maybe it was that which had stirred her, the fear manifesting into the kind of anger she was not used to feeling.
The subconscious was a complicated beast, she realised.
Tiny little storms of worry struck upon her brain as she lay back down, curling into the warmth of Guero’s embrace once more. Still, she was glad that the alcohol in her system acted more powerfully to send her back to sleep than her thoughts did in keeping her awake. Upon waking, she had much more pressing troubles.
“My eyelashes hurt,” she bemoaned, sitting with Lee outside the clubhouse five hours later, both drinking very large, very strong coffees while they waited for their first customer to drop his bike off with them. “I haven’t felt this bad since my thirtieth, when we finished that bottle of mandarin vodka between ourselves.”
Indeed, Emma’s birthday had been a blast, but god, how she and Lee had suffered for it. EZ had found them passed out on top of his trailer, taking a combined effort from him, Guero and Bishop while also wasted to get them down again.
At the mere memory of orange vodka, Lee heaved suddenly, placing her coffee down and rushing back into the clubhouse, passing Bottles as he exited.
“You look remarkably fresh for someone who moved to sambuca at 2am,” she groaned, the bespectacled man beaming.
“I don’t get hangovers.” His statement earned him a scowl. “So, where’s G unit?” he then asked.
“Still asleep. He’ll be down a little later. I take it you didn’t even go home?”
Just then, the clubhouse door opened, revealing a girl with long, bright blue hair and a shaved side, tickling Bottles on the neck with her fingernails, turning to wink at Emma before she sauntered away, swinging her hips seductively.
He pointed with a grin. “Woke up between the pool table and her.”
She immediately thrust her fist forth. “Gimme some knucks!”
“Between that and the funky assed temper, you’re getting just like Lee,” he chuckled, obliging her with a fist bump.
A little prickle sharpened against her gut about the temper comment, thinking to herself that it wasn’t Lee whom she’d resembled last night as she’d wielded Angel’s knife. One thing Guero had told her rang true, though. She was not Rocco, and she had to emphatically remind herself of that.
Smiling, she responded casually. “Eh, I learned from the best.” The best arrived back after a few minutes, looking a little green, taking a seat with a groan.
“Please don’t tell me it’s today we gotta go to Tahoe,” she pleaded, resting her head on Emma’s shoulder. “I can’t cope!”
“No, buddy. Guero booked us for tomorrow, remember?”
“Remember? I don’t remember anything after you pulling a knife on that fuckin’ little tramp,” she groaned, Emma kissing her forehead as she made further noises of discontent, Lee then turning her attention to Bottles. “And why do you look so goddamned spritely? How fuckin’ dare you when I feel like my liver is packing up to leave! It’s outta here, on vacay, leaving me to die a death!”
He pushed his glasses up his nose, still beaming widely. “Got laid better than a roll of linoleum.”
His analogy cracked them up, Lee lighting herself a cigarette, taking a deep breath. “Well, at least you got some. I was too hammered to get a hammering! I’d say I’d never do it again, but I’ll have to be drunk just to sleep next to Gilly. Dude doesn’t snore, he fuckin’ whistles when he’s asleep. I’m surprised he doesn’t wake up every morning to a pack of dogs out on his fuckin’ front lawn.”
Much to Lee’s light chagrin, the only rooms available were doubles, meaning she and the big man had to share a bed. Bishop had made it even worse for her by jokingly telling her she could have a hall pass, mortifying the hell out of her since she looked at Gilly like a younger brother. The two men had nearly split their sides laughing as she’d hid her face in her hands.
“I still don’t know how the hell we’re meant to find out the room Vincent will be staying in when we get there,” Emma sighed, while they chatted about their upcoming visit. “I mean, what, one of us attracts the front desk person while the other tries to get a look at the computer screen?”
“Or you just get somebody with the right set of skills to hack into the hotel’s booking system, and there you have your room number,” Bottles chirped, his face brightening more by the second. “I am that person, in case you two are too hungover for nuance.”
They sat up like a pair of meerkats, very curious over the information presented to them. “I’d completely fuckin’ forgotten that, that you’re a genius with the ole’...” Lee trailed off, making a typing motion with her fingers.
He cocked his head, looking pleased with himself. “I’d say somebody should’ve brought it to me last night prior to you guys booking hotel rooms for longer than necessary, but I was too deep in blue haired babe heaven, and everyone was wasted. Is what it is.” One short trip to fetch his gear later, and the three of them were sitting at the bar, Bottles tapping away.
“Okay, Hyatt Regency,” he muttered, eyes scanning the screen as streams of data moved across it, imputing more numbers and codes. “And enter this here, and... yep... mmhmm... bingo. I’m in.” He began to study the long list of names, Emma going behind the bar and pouring herself a shot of tequila, needing to see if hair of the dog worked. “Got it. Calabrese, room three zero seven.” He then continued to look down the list. “Lombardi, room five four two, just an FYI. Where are your rooms?”
“Ten and thirty-three, so we’re not even on the same floor. Phew.” Emma confirmed, breathing a sigh of relief. They didn’t even need to use the elevator, with them being on the ground floor. Inside though, her worry began to slowly coil around itself, like a viper constricting upon its prey.
Ten months ago, she’d escaped the clutch of the mafia, and now there she was, putting herself right back within their proximity. She just had to hope that the many tentacles of the hydra did not notice her presence, especially not the biggest of them all.
Here's to the weekend, besties! Hope you all have a lovely one :)
Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen Sixteen
Words - 4,096
Warnings - 18+ content throughout, Minors DNI. Recounts of kidnap, child trafficking, physical/verbal/sexual abuse.
The men around the table all sat wide eyed after hearing of the proposal offered to them by Rocco Lombardi, his message relayed by EZ. Well, to call it a proposal was a stretch; he’d point blank told them that come their next shipment, there would also be six children to be moved along with it. EZ and Bishop had met him at a hotel up on Lake Tahoe the previous evening, Lombardi turning a week away there with his closest associates into a chance to meet for business.
The business was, needless to say, not something they wanted to entertain. Moving heroin was one thing; trafficking children was something else entirely.
“It seems what Emma brought to us all those months ago was a very real warning. I’d be lying if I said I hadn’t been hoping that maybe she was wrong, that what happened to her wasn’t about to become something we now have to face, but that was an unrealistic expectation. I see that now.”
A pin could have been heard dropping in templo, the nine men assembled all looking between each other, Guero being the first to speak. “Well, all of you know my opinion before I even speak it, for obvious fucking reasons.”
Angel’s eyes widened. “I think you’re speaking for all of us, bro. I ain’t down with that, trafficking kids. It’s fucked up.”
“Yeah, but do we even have another choice, here?” Hank rumbled, his frown deep set as the unpleasantness of the situation weighed heavily in his chest. “If we refuse, Lombardi wipes us off the fucking map. That’s how it goes with these mobster pricks. He’s got the weight, and he’s got the numbers.”
“He’s right,” Nestor piped up, lifting his chin. “We either have to do something really messed up, or messed up stuff finds its way to us.”
“Not necessarily,” EZ spoke, looking around the table, feeling the same pressure bearing down upon him as every other member of his club. “There has to be a way around it that we’re not thinking of.” That way around it was not immediately forthcoming, the men filing out of the room again, Guero heading out and over to the workshop. The feeling of creeping trepidation that had begun to consume him was abated at the sight that greeted him, Emma sat aboard a CVO Street Glide, rolling the throttle, the engine like thunder as the ground shook. Her face was so delighted, he felt his heartstrings tug.
“I did this! I repaired it, all by myself!” she called over the chug of the engine, carefully manoeuvring the motorcycle backwards to neatly place it opposite the workshop, ready for its owner to come and collect later that afternoon.
His pride was clear, greeting her with affection after she’d secured the bike and climbed off. “My talented baby,” he cooed, kissing her cheek multiple times, tightening his arms around her as she leaned against him. “You sure you still wanna get your learners permit for a car? You look good aboard a motorcycle. Too good, actually. Damn.”
“I might be subject to changing my mind,” she shrugged, Guero pulling her a little closer. She cast her eyes downward, biting her lip at what she could feel pressing hard against her navel. “Seriously? Jesus fucking Christ, the sight of me on a motorcycle did that?”
He snorted softly, moving her long braid and kissing the side of her neck. “It was more the thought of bending you over it.”
“Guero!” Her little exclamation had him in fits, arms sliding to encircle her hips, preventing her from moving.
“Nah, you can’t move yet. Not until I don’t look like I’m impersonating a fucking tepee.” It was her turn for hysterics then, resting her head against his chest, Lee watching them from the workshop, making a fingers down her throat motion, gagging noises included.
“Revoltingly, disgustingly in fuckin’ love, bleugh!” she teased, although her smile was fond. “Go take your break, sunshine. You’ve earned it.”
“Alright, I’ll go in...” she trailed off, arching an eyebrow at her guy. “How long?”
“Hmm, couple of minutes. You being pressed right up against me ain’t helping.”
She lifted her chin, touching her tongue to her cupid’s bow. “Could go visit the bathroom, make use of the tepee situation?”
He groaned, softly butting his forehead against hers a few times. “Can’t. Gilly’s in there with what he’s calling plague of the ass. Translation, he ate some fucking bad tacos.”
It never surprised her, just how often he failed to learn his lesson. “Ewww, I’m so glad I don’t need to pee!”
Somebody else did, though.
“Fuck, Gilly!” Bottles announced a short time later, leaving the bathroom with a sour look on his face. “That smell, it’s a fucking affront to my nose, man.”
“Told you,” the big man shrugged, looking entertained. “It needs leaving for about fifteen to twenty.”
“It needs a biohazard sign spraying onto the damned door!” he continued, his face still pinched in disgust.
Affront. His usage of that word was the spark in Guero’s brain, since it was something he so seldom heard used by the people within his world.
“It’s an affront to god, snatching children from their families.”
While it had been many months since Emma had recited those words to him, by the underboss of the Romano crime family whose name had since escaped him, he’d never forgotten the statement. It was one he’d agreed with so heavily, it had etched itself into his brain.
They had to leave shortly after, Gilly staying behind on account of the fact he was only ever two minutes from shitting his pants at any given moment. For the entire ride up to meet with the Grim Bastards, their allies requiring assistance in a matter, Guero found himself lost in thought. One set of eyes in particular noticed, the guys all taking a load off after their meeting had been concluded, having a few beers at the Grim Bastard’s clubhouse.
“Can’t help but notice you’re kinda far away," EZ spoke, sliding into a seat next to Guero at the bar.
“Nah, I’m here, P,” Guero assured him, lifting his chin. “I just got something on my mind, something I’m wondering over.”
EZ’s forehead creased slightly. “Care to share that?”
He took a moment, trying to order his thoughts. “I don’t even know if it’s possible, trying to guess the motives of a man we don’t know, but Rocco’s underboss, Emma told me specifically how against the whole child trafficking he was. It’s making me wonder just how badly against it he is. She said he went along with it for the sake of not getting shot, but... ahhh.” Shaking his head, he took a big swig from his beer. “I dunno, man.”
EZ began to smile. “So, what you’re saying is that perhaps if Vincent Calabrese didn’t like it, then we might have a way in where negotiating a different deal is concerned?”
“Yeah, but how? Feels impossible.”
“Your girlfriend would know how. I met him last night for the first time, but his demeanour gave nothing away. However, if he confided something like that in her, then he trusted her on some level, might’ve mentioned other things to her, too.” He took a few moments to think about it further, his eyes narrowing as he scratched his chin. “I wonder how content he is, sitting the next rung down from a man who is participating in something he’s so against?” Another pause followed, EZ finishing his beer. “If there’s a chance we can oust Rocco and bring Vincent to the top instead, then we don’t have to either bend to Lombardi’s will or die.”
Guero frowned, turning to EZ as they both stood. “I guess that depends on how loyal he is to his boss.”
“Yeah,” he remarked, grasping his kutte. “Which is why we need to head back to I can ask the younger of the tattooed, blonde bike princesses all about it.”
He felt a little trepidation at that, knowing that while Emma was recovering well, no longer plagued by nightmares or pre-programmed responses to anything that spooked her, her anxiety also levelled out, mentioning the mafia would likely stir things up for her. Then again, they were at an impasse, one which her knowledge truly could help with.
When they arrived, they found the women had finished for the day, sitting inside with Gilly.
“Hey, you firmed up yet, gut rot?” Guero asked, picking up a beer before joining them at their table, EZ following.
Gilly revealed the bottle of Pepto in his grasp. “It takes like pink death, but at least I’m not shitting through the eye of a needle any longer.”
“Emma, I need to talk to you,” EZ began, his words making her stomach flip unpleasantly. “Nothing bad, well, it involves a person from your past. You okay to talk here, or do you wanna go someplace private?”
She swallowed a nervous gulp, her eyes flitting around before landing on his. “Depends on what you want to know.”
“Everything about Vincent Calabrese is what I wanna know.”
Her insides relaxed a little to hear that. If any man had taken pity on her, not treated her as terribly as the rest did, it had been the Romano underboss. She’d never go as far as to call him a nice man, she truly didn’t know him well enough to gauge that, but his refusal to force himself between her legs every time she’d been offered up to him was something she’d never forgotten. “He was the only one with a shred of decency in so much that he never laid a finger on me. The rest were raping sacks of shit, but he never partook.”
Hearing a deep, pissed off mutter followed by a suck of breath over teeth, she thought it was Guero’s anger rising at first, before realising the sound came from her right, not her left. Lee’s hand rested to her wrist, her fingers flexing in grip, letting her know silently how what she’d confided still made a bolt of anger tear through her.
“And you told Guero that he was against the whole child trafficking ring, yes?”
“Correct,” she confirmed, feeling her heart beginning to escalate, Lee suddenly vacating her seat and striding towards the bar. “He said, and I quote, that it was an affront to god. Anything to do with children is a line many of them just will not cross, be it fear of god’s wrath, or what, but he did allude to the fact that not everybody was on board with it. Arguing with Rocco is unheard of in their world, though.”
EZ leaned forward in his seat, his eyes fixed upon hers. It made her feel a little unsteady, her heart continuing to hammer, reaching to rest her hand to Guero’s thigh beneath the table. He immediately covered it with his own, fingers weaving through hers. “And his loyalty to Lombardi?”
She took a moment, putting the pieces together rapidly. “He told you, didn’t he? Tiny consignment has been proposed?” He nodded, Emma continuing. “He’s loyal, mainly out of respect to Carmine, Rocco’s late father and former boss. I think there might have been a little resentment, that Rocco took the reins of the family at just thirty-two years old when he died, meaning Vincent still remained seated beneath another, but he seemed to toe the line. You’re asking because you need an ally on his side of the fence, right? You want to try and seek out an alternative to Rocco’s proposal and hope you can have a voice close to him that might sway that in your favour?”
“Not exactly,” EZ hummed, Lee arriving back with them, carrying with her five shot glasses and a bottle of tequila. The first one was slid to her friend, Emma downing it in one. “I want a way in to know if there’s a weak point in Lombardi’s fence that if pushed against, will cause that fence to break apart.”
She read between the lines. “Jesus fucking Christ, EZ. You actually want to off him, and seek Vincent’s blessing to do so?”
He remained unflinching, other than to sink the tequila proffered forth by Lee. “Do you think that’s possible? Men of power can be swayed by the promise of greater power, after all. If we served as the facilitators of Rocco's sudden vanishing, meaning naturally Calabrese got to rise into the seat I suspect he’s always hankered for, then he gets what he wants, with no more tiny consignment business to endure, and we get a way out of the predicament that means we either cave and move said tiny consignment, or die.”
He paused for a second, gauging her for a reaction. She looked startled, but did not immediately offer forth words that negated the validity of his tentative plan. “Do you have a contact for him?”
She shook her head. “Nope, never needed to call him for anything. The only phone number I remember from that life is Marie’s, and I will die before I endanger my mom by reaching out to her for it, that I can tell you. It was risky enough contacting her once to let her know I was safe. I won’t do it again.”
Her hand clenched hard upon Guero’s, and he could tell instantly that it wasn’t just fear that gripped her. She was getting angry, because she knew, she knew exactly where he was leading.
“Then I need you, Emma. He’s in Lake Tahoe right now at that hotel Bish and I met Lombardi within. I need you to quietly go meet with him.”
Her jaw set. “Oh, so I’m just supposed to travel up there, back into the jaws of the organisation I escaped from ten months ago? Fuck that. As soon as Rocco sees me, he’ll take me back again.”
“Not if you’re careful,” he began, pouring himself another tequila and sinking it, refilling her glass, too. “Disguise yourself, head up there with Guero, find out what room he’s in and go put my offer to him. If I go back there, it’ll rouse suspicion. Has to be someone Lombardi hasn’t seen before.”
"And if he isn't suggestible, I'm a goddamned sitting duck."
"If you don't, then we all are. In fact, we're worse. We're either trafficking kids, ones who won't have the safeguard of Marie Lombardi protecting them like you did, or we're all dead and you're back on Staten Island, this new life of yours obliterated along with the rest of us."
Panic began to flood her, her chest beginning to heave, Guero quick to rest his hand to the back of her neck, squeezing gently. “Breathe, baby. It’s okay.”
“No,” she gulped. “No, it fucking isn’t.”
He knew it wasn’t, too. Unfortunately for Guero, he was stuck between a rock and a hard place, wanting to speak up in defence of his girlfriend and say to EZ that it wasn’t that simple for Emma to risk exposing herself like that, but also gently suggest to her that if she could at least try, they might be in with a shot of escaping their dilemma.
“And it won’t be, unless you agree,” EZ added, the thumbscrews tightening. Just because Guero couldn’t speak up against his president, it didn’t mean another at the table felt forced into silence.
“Ezekiel, you’re scaring her. Enough,” Lee spat, her hand once again resting to Emma’s wrist.
He leaned across the table, eyes narrowing. “This doesn’t concern you. Don’t get involved.”
“The fuck, I won’t!” she hissed, Bishop hearing her ire and moving himself over immediately. He did not trust his wife not to leap across the table, and that was the last thing anyone needed. “If you want her to be in any way, shape or fuckin’ form agreeable, then you don’t handle it like this. You don’t make her fuckin’ regress to being that same frightened girl who came in here little under a year ago after fleeing for her life. No way, not on my watch, ain’t happening.”
“This is the gun to her head all over again, bro,” Guero spoke, not able to hold it back. The feeling of Emma trembling against him prompting his words before he’d truly given them consideration. Leaning forward, he spoke quietly into EZ’s ear. “Gimme a moment. There’s a better way than being blunt. She knows what’s at stake, believe me.”
EZ’s face remained under a veil of contemptuous thunder, Guero taking Emma’s hand and pulling her up, walking with her out of the clubhouse. Since more people, other guys from different charters, the usual scattering of bike bunnies too had all shown up, he took her off across to the awning their bikes lined up beneath, leaning back against his and wrapping her in his arms. As soon as she was within the safety of his embrace, she began to cry.
“S’okay, baby. Shhh, it’s alright.”
“But it isn’t, though!” she sobbed, her throat pinching tight, burying her nose against the side of his neck and inhaling his scent for comfort. “I only have one option, and that’s to go and risk everything I’ve worked so hard to run away from. If he sees me, Guero, oh god. I’m done for.”
“Hey, no you’re not.” He reached beneath her chin, making her emerge from her hiding place. “There’s a way we can do this where you get to see the one person there who you know ain’t gonna hurt you, and not be seen by the one who will. Side note, though. The fuck is he taking you from me, nah. A hundred percent not happening.”
She felt a little reassured by that, of course forgetting that her boyfriend would likely take down anyone who attempted to harm her. But it’s what would happen to him in the aftermath that made her worry. He saw the fear in her rising to the surface, her eyes still widened and glassy, kissing her before he continued.
“This is how we do it. One thing EZ suggested that was good is disguising you, because even if Rocco gets a glimpse of you from afar, you won’t fit the mental picture he has of you. Emma to him is a tall, pale blonde. Now, you’re a tall, tanned, tattooed blonde, but stick you in a wig and I dunno, you’re a tall, tanned, tattooed redhead?”
True, her appearance had changed since arriving, her skin now perpetually golden, and her collection of tattoos ever growing. She now also sported two half sleeves along with the large piece that stretched from her sides down across her lower back, one arm dedicated to her love of birds, the other a dryad surrounded by a canopy of leaves, which was in the process of being finished.
Seeing her begin to calm, Guero continued. “Stick some of your big shades on as well and cover your cheek mole up, and he ain’t gonna see it’s you from a glimpse, is he? I’ll go check us in first and then we’ll just head right up to the room, where you don’t have to leave until we know where Vincent is staying. Wanna know why you’re not gonna leave? Because your man here is going be laying some serious pipe in you for as long as we’re there. That’s all it’ll be, room service and a fuck fest. How’s that sound?”
Softness and humour. Yes, her guy certainly knew how to handle her when she was spiralling into fear.
“That sounds great,” she replied, breathing a sigh of relief. She could do that, she guessed, although she knew that even in the lobby, she’d experience the fear flooding her, just in case she came face to face with him. She had no choice, though. Her love and her friends ending up dead and her back in captivity in New York was definitely the scarier option. “How are you gonna find out what room he’s in, though?”
He shrugged, kissing the tip of her nose. “I’ll work something out.”
Just then, shouting became audible from the open clubhouse door, Bishop emerging, carrying Lee over his shoulder.
“What the...” Emma trailed off, Bish scanning the surroundings, changing his course when he saw them and heading over. He didn’t look impressed. Placing her down, they soon found out why.
“I swear to god I’ll...” she began, her husband pointing a stern finger.
“No! Not another fucking word, Eileen Mary.” His stare lingered before he walked back the way he came, Emma turning to Lee.
“What did you do?”
She held up her hand, her knuckles an angry shade of red. “Punched EZ in the face.”
She cringed, Lee flexing her fingers and muttering. “So, that's why you got the full first name and middle name treatment, huh?"
Lee’s eyes widened, the presence of EZ coming hurtling from the clubhouse distracting them as they watched it unfold, Bishop pushing against his chest. “Leave it, mano. C’mon, I don’t agree with her punching you, but you ain’t gonna go after my wife. She might be wrong, but I’ll fucking drop you if you lay a hand on her, president or not.”
“Then she needs to not involve herself in club matters! This ain’t the place for old ladies to be getting up in our fucking business!”
Bishop continued pushing him back. “Yeah? You just asked another to get involved, one who just so happens to be her best friend. C’mon, EZ. You know how protective she is. Cool it.”
Lee wound an arm around Emma’s shoulders, laying a kiss to the side of her head. “Damned fuckin’ straight, you’re my best friend.”
Emma turned, her face stunned. “You punched him for me?”
“Sure did, sunshine.”
Hearing that, Guero reached for her, clasping her face and planting a huge smacker of a kiss on her lips. “Thank you for that, because I kinda wanted to, but couldn’t. Cuz’ there’s the rock, there’s the hard place and then there’s Guero fucking Ortiz, right in the goddamned fucking centre!”
His gesticulating had them chuckling, Guero shaking his head, indicating he’d be back. “Yo, prez! It’s handled, man. Emma and I will go up there, I’ll book us a room right now for a couple of nights.”
EZ began to simmer down immediately, as Guero knew he would, having his wishes complied with. “Just in case of shit going south, take a couple of others with you.”
Bishop shook his head immediately. “Nah, it’ll attract too much attention, a sudden influx of outlaw presence there.” He then looked to his wife before his eyes scanned the rest of the yard. “Gilly! Get over here.”
A plan was swiftly formed, Emma and Guero and Lee and Gilly would attend, for all intents and purposes simply looking like two couples spending a few days away together so as not to rouse suspicion, but also being the help on hand should anything nefarious arise. Bishop couldn’t do it, of course, with Lombardi knowing his face.
After that, apologies were extended, Lee and EZ clearing the air, and the night continuing. Outlaws. While they fought big, they loved bigger, EZ taking a moment to have a private word with Emma, too.
“I want you to know I appreciate you, and I’m sorry. I’m too hot headed, not good at dialling it back when I know my club is in mortal danger, the kind of danger that you know better than anyone. Still, it’s no excuse.” He reached for her then, taking his face in her hands, kissing her forehead. “We’ve both worked too hard for everything we have; I don’t want either of us to lose it.”
She nodded, smiling. For once, she felt nothing but very genuine sincerity coming from him. “Neither do I.” She gently thumbed his eye, EZ laughing a small burst from his nose as he saw her trying not to laugh. “My girl got you good, huh?”
“Oh yeah,” he snorted. “She loves the hell out of you.”
Looking over at Lee, who gave her a wave and a wink, Emma could only agree that the feeling was entirely mutual.
She loved her friends and the life she had carved out for herself with them, and if that meant she had to face the demons of her past in order to continue enjoying it while also keeping those people safe, then she knew what had to be done.
First update of the week is here again! Big thanks for all your engagement, my lovely little audience :)
Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen Fifteen
Words - 3,448
Warnings - 18+ content throughout, Minors DNI. Recounts of kidnap, child trafficking, physical/verbal/sexual abuse.
New relationships. For the most part, the new voyage with a brand-new person is taken upon a calm sea of getting to know one another, hanging out, having fun, and a copious amount of sex. Occasionally, though, the sea gets a little choppy.
Especially when said new relationship involves living together right off the bat.
Even more so when person A has been recovering from a hellish life, and person B has been tiptoeing around them because of this, perhaps taking a little more in the way of selfishness than he should have.
Lee already had a tension headache that morning. Hearing Emma and Guero going at one another with the kind of decibels that made her brain feel like it was rattling in her skull didn’t help. She’d be lying if she’d stated that she hadn’t been wondering when this might all blow up, from the little observances she’d noted between the two.
“You know, if things ever go south with me and Bish, I’m fuckin’ marrying you,” she spoke, a look of bliss on her face, Angel standing behind her squeezing the tension from her neck. It was always the cause of her headaches. That and she refused to wear her glasses as much as she should.
“What, just for my massage skills? ‘Cuz if you think my hands feel great on your neck...” Looking down, she saw them hovering above her boobs, Lee nudging him with a soft elbow.
“Quit it!”
He laughed returning them to her neck, both of them distracted as the clubhouse door flew open, the small hurricane of a very pissed off Emma flying out, Guero following.
“Em! Get the fuck back here!”
“No way, not after what you just said!”
“Damn,” Angel winced, “she’s getting sassy.”
“Yeah, she’s pushing back,” she observed, sipping her coffee. “Now that she actually can.”
“How’d you mean?”
Lee circled her neck a little, a few clicks sounding. “She had nineteen years of never being able to fuckin’ argue against anything. Don Lombardi said jump, she asked how high. Now she knows she’s not gonna cop a beating or a hot knife against her, she’s learning to speak up.
“I think she’s pretty fuckin’ sparky by nature, but it’s been supressed for a long fuckin’ time and poor Guero, he ain’t used to it. He’s gotten used to this sweet, meek woman who didn’t disagree with nothing, you know? To be fair, though, he’s also let her get away with it, wanting her own way now she realises she can, and him suddenly not letting her ain’t fuckin’ sitting well with Emma, being told no.”
Angel marvelled at how, as usual, Lee truly was the all-seeing eye of the MC family, her assessment making a lot of sense to him, even if he hadn’t really noticed any details beyond the fact the young couple had been yelling at one another for the last twenty minutes. “They should just go bang it out, man. Always works for me.”
Lee leaned back, viewing him upside down with a raised eyebrow. “And when was the last time you had a healthy relationship from those avoidance tactics, hmm?”
He thought for a few moments, moving his hands to the base of her skull. “Hmm.”
“Exactly,” she grinned, winking.
“Yeah, yeah, alright,” he laughed, shaking his head. “I guess me and women don’t exactly go hand in hand like that.”
“Nope, because you only ever keep ‘em at arm's length. Or dick’s length, never really let ‘em in, do you?”
He had no comeback for that, the truth of his lack of confidence in relationships presented to him, tugging a tiny piece of her hair before he continued his pinching. “Whatever it is, I kinda hope they’re done soon. It's too early for all this loud bitching.”
“And if we agree on one fuckin’ thing, Reyes elder, it’s that!” she sighed, the shouting from across the yard not showing any signs of abating just yet. At least one good thing had come from it, she guessed. Emma now realised that anger wasn’t the ultimate precursor to anything bad happening, she didn’t recoil from a raised voice and tremble in fright. Quite the opposite, in fact.
Expressing angry emotions instead of bottling things up was healthy, but perhaps in that moment they both needed to walk away and calm down, Guero finally doing that, storming back into the clubhouse while Emma tore a path back to the workshop with heat in her heels, her jaw set.
“The absolute fucking nerve of him!” she muttered, picking up a spanner, beginning her work again.
“Hey, no rage while you’re working with brake cables,” Lee instructed, pointing across the shop at her.
“I can’t help it! Jesus fucking Christ, he’s got me so damned mad!”
“While you’re in my workshop, yeah you fuckin’ can. I’m technically your boss, so I can tell you what to do, and you can either like it or leave, Emma. If I say no rage, then you gotta calm your fuckin’ shit down before you work on brakes. We clear?”
She chewed the inside of her cheek with annoyance, placing the spanner down and sighing, counting to ten. “Yeah, yeah, we are. Sorry.”
“Good.” Lee watched her carefully, taking a few moments to cool off, sipping at her cherry Coke while she calmed down, moving back to the huge Harley and continuing with her task of fitting the new brake cables. She left it about ten minutes before speaking again. “Alrighty, now boss Lee is done, friend Lee is here. Whassup with you guys? You wanna talk about it, chat it out, spill all?”
“Lots of little things,” she began, her nostrils flaring as she took off her gloves, leaning on the handlebars of the bike before her. “It’s all compounded and he’s basically calling me selfish for always wanting my own way, but I’m not! He isn’t being fair!”
A few more details were revealed, the main bone of her contention being that he refused to travel nearly two hours away to see a used car she liked the look of, his refusal not being met by anything close to grace. Most of her other gripes were of a similar pattern, which if Emma took ten seconds to breathe over rather than losing her cool, she’d see she was being a little unreasonable about. Lee knew why she was struggling with that, though.
In truth, this was her first real relationship with someone, and even though a fully grown woman at twenty-nine, her expectations were quite childish. She expected her own way because Guero had so far let her have it, and maybe that was his fault, setting a standard that wasn’t realistic. Emma experiencing this sudden hostility was likely triggering of her past, though, never being able to have her own voice, being dictated to as well.
It wasn’t really her fault; she simply didn’t know how to handle conflict, how to compromise, since she’d never experienced give and take. Likely, she thought that compromise meant she was being ordered around again, when that simply wasn’t the case. It really didn’t help that Guero too only had two modes, calm and easy, or flying off the handle. He was just like his dad in that respect; there was no in between. Either way, Lee knew she had to handle her reply very carefully.
“Okay, I’m not saying all, but a lot of this is boiling down to you not liking hearing the word no, because it reminds you of a time when that was all you did hear. I also get it that you want to ask for things, now that you actually can. You deserve ‘em, sunshine! Ain’t nobody who does more than you after all you fuckin’ went through, but there’s a but here.”
“And that is?” she asked, Lee pulling her cigarettes out and lighting up.
“You gotta see you can’t expect everything to go your way. Guero is entitled to have his own opinions and if they don’t mesh with yours, you can’t fuckin’ blow up and demand of him. He isn’t Rocco, babe. Yeah, he can be bad tempered, but he ain’t trying to clip your wings, hold you down, bend you to his will, which is the way I think you’re taking it.”
“Let’s use the car thing as an example. Him not wanting to take you all the way up to Anaheim to see a used car you’ve found, a near two-hour journey each way isn’t him being an asshole. I mean, you haven’t even fuckin’ got your learners permit yet! There’re stacks of cars closer to home for sale, too. That’s where you have to meet him halfway and compromise. It’s his time off, he doesn’t wanna spend nearly four hours of it on a fuckin’ motorcycle again when he could be just chilling out, enjoying his time with you in any number of other ways. C'mon, surely you can see that?”
It wasn’t the reply she’d been expecting, but if Emma was brutally honest with herself, it was the one she needed to hear. Lee’s usual calm pragmatism, delivered in her no-nonsense, yet gentle fashion put a hole in her armour, one she needed to actually let in a little bit of sense. Butting heads with Guero, especially how fiery he was when pissed off, had done nothing but make her build a further wall.
Emma realised she was being overly defensive and thus his perfectly reasonable refusal to let her have her own way wasn’t being met by any fairness from her, because it wasn’t getting through. She cringed internally at herself as the realisation of it smacked her.
As if reading her thoughts, Lee continued. “I’ll add here too that you’re not solely in the wrong. Guero and his crazy little temper should know that yelling at you isn’t gonna solve shit. You’ve had too much yelling, but he struggles hanging onto his fire. He needs to dial it back, though.”
The uncomfortableness began to subside, Emma realising it was time to put on her big girl pants. “I’m being a bit of a princess, aren’t I?”
“Yup!”
Moving out from behind the bike, she looked over to the clubhouse. “Think I might need to go apologise for my part.”
Lee nodded. “Humble pie don’t taste too good, huh, sugar?”
“Pretty damned bitter, buddy.” Lee threw her head back, pushing a soft fist against her shoulder, Emma walking over to the clubhouse. Angel and Bottles were outside, both looking at her with slight scepticism.
“Is this about to be round two? Cuz’ my ears can’t take it,” the former asked, Emma shaking her head.
“Nope, off to extend my apologies. Sorry to you guys, too, having to bear witness to our drama.”
The men shared a sharp head turn in one another’s direction. “Yo, he gotta woman who says she’s sorry? Damn. Where’d I find myself one of those?” Angel announced, Bottles laughing as Emma crouched next to where they were loitering on the steps.
She rested her head on his shoulder, sighing. “You might have one right here if he tells me to go fuck myself.”
Angel snorted, reaching to pat her arm a few times. “He ain’t gonna do that, shut up. If he does, though...” He winked at her with a click of his tongue, Emma laughing, kissing his forehead. She really liked Angel. For all his wise assed bravado, he was actually one of the least threatening of the guys, one she gelled with more than others. Him, Gilly and Bottles were her people, she’d found in the six months she’d been in their lives for at that point.
“Just kick him in the nuts if he starts yelling again, babe,” the latter spoke, Emma shaking her head and standing.
“That isn’t conducive to calming things down.”
Bottles sniffed, turning his head back to grin at her. “No, but it’d make me laugh.” His words made a little bit of the tension she carried melt, turning back to the doors and taking a deep breath before letting herself in.
“I swear to fucking god, if you’re here to scream at me some more,” Guero began, turning from where he was sat at the bar with Bishop and EZ.
“Can we talk?”
He raised his eyebrows. “I can, but you just wanna fucking embarrass the living hell out of me with your yelling, so if it’s more of that, then no.” The two men he was sitting with slowly slinked away, not wanting to be right in the way of things if they blew up for a second time, Emma waiting until they’d retreated.
“I’m sorry,” she began, reaching to stroke his forearms. The muscles stiffened on contact. “I’ve realised I was being a princess about things and not being reasonable. I need to compromise more, I see that now. I’m sorry I yelled at you, too. I love you, let’s get past it.”
“Mm,” he hummed, rolling his tongue around the inside of his mouth, his jaw flexing. “And you need to stop looking at me and seeing that dick who took your life away. I know that’s what you’re doing, and it offends the fuck outta me.” As it would, she thought, since her boyfriend was the very antithesis of Rocco in the way he treated her. “Alright. We’re good.”
He looked and sounded the furthest thing from it. “No, we’re not. It’s written all over your face, how mad you are at me.”
He shrugged with nonchalance. “Maybe that’s for you to deal with.”
Oh, he wasn’t budging. When her man held a grudge, he truly did hang onto it with both hands and every single one of his teeth.
She rolled her eyes, turning away. “Mother fucking Mary, you’re so stubborn.”
Rather than fight against it because she didn’t like it, she decided to leave him to it. He’d calm down in his own time, she figured. Being an adult and accepting that was part of the process of being in a relationship was all she could do. She’d apologised, now it was up to him to either take it on board or need further time to simmer down a little more.
Until then, she had bikes to work on, and outlaws to keep her entertained, especially later that afternoon when she stopped for a break and a cold beer. Angel, Bottles and Downer were her source of relief while she sat studying a Harley Davidson manual, familiarising herself with the set up.
It was while she was reading about the engine configuration that Angel broke her concentration with his request. “You’re fuckin’, you’re... hey yo, Emma! Gimme a fancy word for rude.”
“Impertinent,” she offered, Downer snorting.
“Ain’t that when a dude can’t get his dick up?”
Oh, he was walking right into it. “No, buddy. That’s impotent.”
“Yeah, he’s that, too,” Bottles offered, his face alight with mischief.
Angel laughed hard, swigging his beer. “Ain’t got shit to say to that, huh dog?”
“You wouldn’t be nothin’ without your lil’ blonde dictionary over there! Bitch ass probably didn’t even finish high school!”
“Fuck you, man. I finished!”
“I didn’t, though. Didn’t even go, you know, with the whole kidnapped thing.” All three stared at her in disbelief.
“Then how come you’re so well spoken?” Bottles asked, Emma shrugging.
“I read books. Lots of them.” Just then, she felt a body slide behind hers, two familiar tattooed arms draping around her.
“You know what one of those is, right Angel? Primitive version of Netflix.” After his amusing comment – with Angel not so amused by his sarcasm - Guero then leaned in close to her, tightening his arms and kissing her cheek. “I’m sorry for being a bad-tempered ass, wasn’t all just you, baby.”
Her hands clutched onto his forearms, stroking them as she turned to offer a kiss. “I appreciate that.” Her smile warmed him where he'd been feeling frosty, knowing that for his part, he needed to actually accept when someone was sorry instead of holding onto his grudge; even if that holding had only been for a couple of hours.
As for Emma, she recognised it as an important part of her leading a normal life, not letting her past influence her present. It would be easier said than done, she supposed, not to let it happen, not to immediately think that every objection Guero made was an attempt at control. At least now thanks to Lee’s advice, she could see when she was doing it.
Later that night, they spoke about it, Emma lying at one end of the bathtub, him at the other.
“See I kinda think you’re still pissed at me, giving me the tap end of the tub,” he commented, Emma raising an eyebrow.
“Excuse me, who decided to encroach on who’s bath time?”
She had him there, Guero biting his lip as he pulled a face that made her giggle. “Yeah, alright.” Grabbing one of her feet, he began to rub them for her, a gesture appreciated since she’d been on them all day, running around the yard. “I meant what I said about you seeing me in the same light as that slimy fuck from your past, though. We can disagree without you immediately thinking I’m behaving like him. I get that it’s hard for you, but yeah. Try not to go there, alright?”
“I will. Promise I will, honey,” she vouched. “I have a lot of shit to process, I guess. You’ve been so patient with me, too. I don’t blame you for getting pissed off.”
He shrugged. “I ain’t perfect either, and I say I get it, that you have shit to process, but I guess I never really will truly understand it, what you have to deal with. I’m not pretending I will either, but yeah. I’ll try not to lose my shit and be so bad tempered with you while you do. Speaking of that, I gotta say it! You’re nearly as fucking explosive as I am. It’d be a turn on if it wasn’t directed at me.” He went to bite her toes, Emma snatching her foot away with a squeal. “I gotta new type, apparently. Sparky blondes. Sparky blondes whose feet I’m gonna bite.”
“No!” she squeaked, Guero going for the other foot.
“Yeah? Stop me.”
Half the water in the tub was lost to the pursuit of bitten toes, Emma scream laughing, wrapping her legs around him eventually to prevent his onslaught, giving him a defiant look. “Now what are you going to do, hmm?”
He looked her up and down, eyebrows fluttering suggestively. “You.” He leaned to kiss her, his body covering hers, more of the water sloshing out onto the floor. “Today started bad, let’s end it better, huh?”
It ended a lot better, that was for certain. Even though the bathroom floor resembled that of a swimming pool once they were done.
Later that night, as Guero slept at her side – and quietly for once – Emma lay back and played the day over in her head. While medication had eased her anxiety and worked to relieve her of the nightmares that had plagued her, there was much more work she needed to do on herself. While physically, she was far from Staten Island, mentally she was still there in how she was handling conflict.
Turning to her side, she could just about make out her love from the light filtering through the tiny cracks in the blinds, both too busy enjoying one another some more once they’d made it out of the bathtub to bother closing them properly. He was her safe person, the one who’d literally found her, and the one who’d made her realise he was different to all she knew. She owed it to him to believe that, believe him.
Speaking of Staten Island, while she and Guero slept, not two miles from their location a call came in from a resident of that very New York City borough.
“Ezekiel, Rocco Lombardi.”
Standing up, EZ walked from the clubhouse out into the quiet of the yard to take the call, the cooler night air wisping gently against his face, listening as he continued. “So, it’s been almost a year since our arrangement commenced, and things are running well. I’d like to propose a meet with you and your VP again, discuss something extra I intend to move along with our current consignment.”
There it was. The other shoe Bishop had warned him about – and the same one Emma had spoken of months before - had finally dropped.
Because I'm going to be busy and nowhere near a computer tomorrow, I'm sharing the update a day early. It's a bit of a filler chapter, but we do have those on occasion. Enjoy, besties!
Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen Fourteen
Words - 3,022
Warnings - 18+ content throughout, Minors DNI. Recounts of kidnap, child trafficking, physical/verbal/sexual abuse.
Food smells. Emma was not used to returning home to find such wafting under her nose. Coconut milk, lemongrass, garlic and cilantro. They usually only ordered in when both were home to choose. Hmm.
“Hey mister, did you order Thai food?” she called, hanging up her jacket, unclipping Axl from his leash and sliding her sneakers off, walking through to the kitchen. “Where the hell did you find a Thai takeout place in Santo-oh my god, you’re cooking.”
Guero turned from the stove, placing the lid back on the pot he’d just stirred. “I am.”
She was stunned. “You’re cooking, and you’re not burning anything!”
He looked a little coy, his smile spreading as he greeted her with a kiss. “That part remains to be seen.”
Setting her bag down, she basked in his affection, nails stroking the back of his head. “I'm shocked, this from a man who can't even boil an egg without making it look like it's been fossilised.” Moving to the pot, she removed the lid and inhaled deeply, the aromas making her mouth water. “Jesus fucking Christ, that smells good! Did you have help? Because I cannot believe for one second you followed a recipe without panicking.”
Picking up his phone, he turned the screen to reveal an emailed explanation. “Lee. She sent me that this morning, instructions included.”
So, that’s what he’d done with part of his day off, then, Emma reading through, laughing to herself. Lee typed exactly how she talked. “Put the chicken in with PLENTY of oil, but don’t fuckin’ let it start smoking, then keep it moving and wait until it’s GOLDEN BROWN, not fuckin’ cremated before you add the garlic and lemongrass! And for fucks sake, buy microwave rice pouches! My trust in you does not extend that far and I don’t want the damned wailing in my earholes if you end up burning it to the fuckin’ pan. Rice is tricky. Let Ben’s Original do that part for you.”
“It’s gotta sit for a while now,” he spoke, arms sliding around her waist, mouth going to her neck as she placed his phone back down. “So, I got some ideas on how we can pass the time.”
She felt herself be lifted, Guero seating her on the edge of the counter, beginning to undo her shorts. “But I’m all gross and sweaty.”
Her complaint was met by a gruff rumble as he bit her earlobe. “You fucking smell great, as always. Now, shut up. I’m hungry.” He tugged at her cut offs and undies, slipping them down her tanned, slender thighs, her socks yanked free. He fixed her with the kind of stare that had her blood sparking, nuzzling her softly before kissing her with filthy heat.
“God fucking damn, I love you so much.” His murmur preluded more of those steamy kisses, Emma tangling her fingers in his hair, her hands sliding to his back, pulling him against her. The heat of his skin whipped a tempest over her flesh, goose pimples rising, anticipating whirling.
He felt it gnaw, his need eating at him with hungry teeth, yanking her closer to the edge of the counter. He pushed her body back a little, hands parting her thighs wide before he buried his mouth between them.
The intrusion of a hot, wet tongue snaking between her folds had her eyes closing in bliss, hands gripping the edge of the counter, her head falling back with a soft gasp. The hungry suck he took sent sparks gleaming through her, muscles jolting as a soft purr slipped from her mouth.
He literally growled around a mouthful of her cunt, fingers digging into her thighs. “Shit, you fucking taste amazing, mamas. God, you always get me so fucking hard.” Imagining the rigidity of his cock, coupled with the fast beat of his tongue across her clit had her trickling against his mouth, her arousal tingling her core as she panted, resting her feet up on his back as he ate her thirstily.
“Mmm, you shouldn’t have mentioned that gorgeous, fat cock getting hard, because now all I can think about it getting wrecked by it,” she purred, her eyes a haze of allure as she stared down at him, the cute, yet sexually charged sight of her biting her lower lip making his insides pool molten.
He turned his head, biting her inner thigh hard, the action making her gasp, running his tongue in a slow, firm lick over the red marks left behind, his eyes never leaving hers. “Yeah? Baby girl wanna get fucked real hard, does she?”
Straightening, he yanked off his t shirt, Emma feeding two fingers into his mouth, grasping his jaw and pulling him close to her. “Yeah.” Her fingers slid from between his lips, turning her head to run a slow lick up his cheek, pulling off her vest and bra, all while fixing him with a look of roaring lust. “Now.”
It acted like someone pouring an entire vat of accelerant upon his fire, but Guero held himself back, arching an eyebrow, shedding himself of his own clothes before shunting his body between her legs. One hand gently curled around her throat, the other grasped his cock, skimming the head through her soaking folds. “This what you want, huh?”
“Mmm,” she hummed, her tongue flicking against his earlobe, teeth crushing in a soft bite. “So, so badly.” He turned his head, his mouth meeting hers, kisses of fiery honey exchanged as he finally caved and glided inside her. She pulsed around him, sucking him a little deeper, his grunt against her tongue a deep baritone that sent a spark flaring through her, his hand still holding her neck.
The thick weight of him stretching her walls evoked her soft gasps, letting go of her clutch on the counter, arms wrapping around him, pulling him closer. Her nails slid over his back, a glide of sensual daggers, his grip on her neck releasing to instead grasp her thighs, pulling them wider, the roll of his hips sending him so deep into her she saw stars.
He laid kisses to her throat, teeth peppering little bites, his groans all smoke and rasp as he pounded her voraciously, the wet slap of him filling the air as he fucked her. It rough and unrelenting, their mouths locked in blazing kisses, lightning striking tiny storms beneath their skin. He rutted her deep, fingers imprinting divots into her thighs, nerves lighting up as he felt her tighten around him, the velvet wet clasp heavenly.
Lightning leapt up her spine as the hard shunt of his body pressed her clit, her thighs clenching at his narrow waist, her nails dug into his shoulder, the other knotted in his hair as her cries loudened, both chasing the dawn that primed to spill golden over their horizons. When that light finally shone and gilded, their groans reached crescendo, clung onto one another tightly as white-hot pleasure beamed through them, breathless and orgasm drunk.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” she panted, stroking his face.
“Yeah,” he breathed, moving to kiss her neck. “I’m amazing, huh?”
“And so humble in your talents, mister.”
He laughed, gently sliding from her, hands stroking her thighs as he lifted his chin defiantly. “I’m the fuck of the fucking century, and you know it!”
With how proficient he was at making her come, she supposed she really couldn’t argue with that. His track record wasn’t every time for no reason. “Well, mister fuck of the century. I’m going to drink a cold beer in a hot bath. If I can walk.”
Her wobble when she moved off the counter to her feet had him snort laughing, Emma picking up her clothes and taking them to throw in the machine before walking slightly bow legged to the bathroom.
“Shut up!” she threw over her shoulder, Guero’s laugh filling the kitchen at her unsteadiness. One bath later, and she and Guero were curled up on the couch, eating large bowls of curry, curry that was neither burned or otherwise inedible. Quite the opposite.
“You can do this more often, now that you know you can,” she commented, washing down a mouthful with a sip of beer.
“I dunno,” he shrugged, “I had seventeen panic attacks making that, even with her majesties step by step instructions.”
Speaking of her majesty, as Emma was laughing at his reply, her phone beeped, picking it up to find a text from Lee.
‘Bish and I are going bowling, and I need other people there to distract from how fuckin’ much I suck! Come with? We’ll be there at eight. PLEASE!’
Putting the idea to Guero, she was met by noises of protest. “Hmm, nah. I’ve kinda gone full potato mode and I wanna stay that way. About the most energetic thing I’m planning on doing is piledriving you into the couch once I’ve digested.”
Although that offer was tempting, Emma had been seduced now by the idea of an outing. “Oh, come on! Please? I haven’t bowled since I was a kid, and you’ll get to laugh at how abysmal I’ll likely be.” His face remained unchanged. “Please, honey, please, please?” Her gentle shaking of his arm coupled with her hopeful eyes finally got through, Guero smiling.
“Fine, tell her we’ll be there.” He had a hard time saying no to her, knowing that of course she’d come from a life where she’d never been able to have anything her way. Her getting her own way couldn’t hurt either, he figured, Emma giving him a big kiss before jumping off the couch to go and get ready.
An hour and a half later, donned in very bad shoes and drinking awful bowling alley beer, and Emma was showing that although after many years of absence, bowling was something she wasn’t too bad at. Lee, however...
“Baby, aim central. Curve your arm,” Bishop advised, Lee chewing the inside of her cheek as she concentrated. She took her aim, the green ball leaving her hand and hurtling down the alley... straight into the gutter.
She turned, her eyes fixing upon her husband, who to his credit did try not to look so thoroughly entertained. “It’s a damned good job I think you’re fuckin’ cute, Obispo Losa.”
“What?” he laughed, shrugging as she sat back down with a huff. “I didn’t say a word.”
Her eyes narrowed in an instant. “I see you, looking at me with that tone of voice.”
He began to laugh immediately, transported back to many memories revolving around their time in the military together, and the one man she’d taken that very expression from. “You sound like Delaney, shit.” Guero and Emma looked blank, Bishop quickly taking his turn before coming back to explain. “Delaney was Luke Delaney, our commanding officer, and this guy was a fucking trip, I swear.”
“He could be scary, that’s a given, but mostly he was just fucking funny as hell,” he continued, side eyeing Lee as his laughter grew. “One time, Lee didn't put everything required into her pack before we went out on training exercise, so Delaney punished her by finding this big assed rock that weighed roughly the equivalent of what she hadn’t brought and told her she would march with it. So of course, Lee being Lee, as soon as she got out on the march and around the first corner out of his sight, she put it down.”
“Then he comes up to her afterward, right, and he fucking demanded to know where the rock was. She said, and I fucking quote, “Sir I lost your rock, sir! Couldn’t find another that big, sir, so sought a replacement, sir!” so then reached into her pocket and pulled out a fucking pebble the size of a goddamned grape!
“We’re all trying not to laugh as she places it into his hand, Delaney is hanging onto it by the skin of his fucking teeth, and he fucking, he fucking just shakes his head, pulls a pen from his pocket and demands she sign her name on the stone. It stayed on his desk for the rest of his time there at the base because he knew he’d laugh at her audacity every time he saw it.”
“That ain’t as funny as what he fuckin’ made you do a few weeks later in the mess hall,” Lee began, snickering immediately as Bish closed his eyes, reliving the mortifying memory. “This guy in our platoon, Ellis Bundy, there’s always one, ‘the guy’ as they’re known, and he didn’t follow Delaney’s orders to the letter, so he fuckin’ made him stand on the table and wave his arms while reciting the line “I’m a shit bird” over and fuckin’ over until told otherwise.
“So Bish is fuckin’ killing himself laughing at him, cracking up, absolutely howling. Delaney spies it and roars, “Losa! On the table!” upon which he had to flap his arms and say “I’m a mocking shit bird” until he told him to get down! Inside, I was fuckin’ cry laughing at him, oh god!”
“Ellis Bundy!” Bishop exclaimed, shaking his head. “That fool set off a goddamned live round in a tank one time, fucking deafened everybody in there, the fucking stupid cunt. Christ, he was a living shit show!”
Hearing the stories of their miliary days warmed Emma, thinking it so lovely they had such a long history with one another. Friends for over twenty years, but as she’d learned from Lee herself, only married for eight after reconnecting many years after leaving the military.
It was a beautiful thing, watching how in tune with one another they were, the party of four moving to the bar after their game, which Guero had won, and Lee and Emma had come in joint last place. Seeing a healthy marriage was something she wasn’t used to for the most part, of course only witnessing the awful abuse Marie had endured throughout her time captive within her home.
Rocco’s hands had never reached for her with the same love that Bishop’s did to Lee, stroking her neck idly as she rested her head on his shoulder, listening to Guero tell her of his triumph following her Thai green curry recipe, little panic attacks aside.
“Well, you ain’t ever gonna be as badass as Emma is in the kitchen, but there you are, you can do one thing at least now other than ignite chaos,” she commented, sipping her beer. “I swear, sugar. That fuckin’ thing you made with the bacon pieces, oh my god!”
Emma thought back over her lunches made from leftovers she’d taken in recently, a box for Lee too unless it was a Friday, when the pair treated themselves to a delivery of burgers and fries. “The Bucatini all'Amatriciana?”
“Yep! That's it!” Lee enthused, pointing across the table at her. “That one nearly made me get down on one knee and fuckin’ propose!”
“And where would that have left me, sweetheart?” Bishop asked, entertained.
“The spare room.” His wife’s statement roused a lot of laughter, Bishop furthering it.
“Oh, great,” he rumbled, “you take a wife and I ain’t even allowed to watch. Fuck my life.”
“Do I get to?” Guero asked, raising an eyebrow, Lee not answering for the excitement that followed after reading an alert on her phone.
“Oh, baby look, they got last minute tickets for the midnight showing of The Exorcist at that little movie theatre just outside of town!”
“Yeah? Get ‘em booked, we’re going,” Bishop nodded, Lee beginning to do exactly that. It had sold out prior to them deciding if they wanted to go or not, Lee putting her name down for email notifications should any cancellations arise. “Okay, there’s seven left. You guys wanna come with? I’ll get the tickets, y’all get the snacks.”
Emma’s face lit up immediately. “Yes!” She then checked herself, turning to Guero. “Can we?”
“Mmm, kinda wanted to call it a night after here. I’m tired,” he replied, his enthusiasm definitely not on par with that of his girlfriend.
“Come on! You can sleep when you’re dead! Please, please, please?”
He thought for a few minutes, Emma badgering at him some more before he finally relented. It might have been innocuous to anyone else, but Lee noticed it, just as she’d picked up on it in the past, too. Guero had a hard time telling Emma no and pretty much always caved to her wishes. With anyone else in his life, he’d have absolutely no problem with making his feelings known. A soft alarm sounded in her head, but she didn’t pay it further mind.
Just over two hours later and they were sat in the packed out, independent movie theatre furnished with snacks and drinks, the iconic opening of the classic horror movie beginning to play, Guero wishing he had a coffee the size of the soda he held in order to stay awake. Halfway through the film, he found enough incentive, Emma repeatedly jumping out of her skin.
“I swear,” he whispered, leaning close to her ear, his grin wide. “Watching you fucking crap your pants every five minutes is worth not being asleep for.”
She nudged him with a soft elbow, offering him a kiss he happily granted her. It was close to 3am by the time they arrived home, Guero happy to faceplant the bed, glad outlaw hours meant he didn’t have to show his face until around 11am the following morning. As it turned out, though, Emma had other ideas.
“Where are you off to, baby girl?” he asked, Emma kissing her way down his torso.
“To say thank you for tonight in a way I think you might enjoy.” Might enjoy? Now, there was an understatement, Guero smirking to himself, feeling his cock swelling with anticipation.
When her lips wrapped around his hardness, it was definitely the derailing of his original plans he preferred most that night. Sleep could always wait to be on the receiving end of the best blowjobs he’d ever received in his entire life.
First update of the week is here, besties! Thanks so much for your dedication to this, I appreciate you all so very much :)
Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve Thirteen
Words - 3,786
Warnings - 18+ content throughout, Minors DNI. Recounts of kidnap, child trafficking, physical/verbal/sexual abuse.
To think, she’d expected him to simply pass out and snore like a brontosaurus. Oh, hell no, Emma lying back, her hand fisted in his hair tightly, her feet resting on his shoulders as he completely ruined her with his tongue.
Slow, firm, flat drags over her clit sent waves of heat through her, fingers massaging at the slick petals of her cunt as his tongue began to circle slowly. Slowly, slowly, the sound of her sweet little moans filling his ears, slipping two fingers inside her, hooking them to rake against the soft, wet flesh that gently spasmed.
“Having fun, mamas?”
“Oh, you have no idea!”
He grunted a chuckle, sucking on her with a hungry growl. “Think I do.” Pulling his fingers from her, he showed the evidence sparkling upon them, sucking them clean before pushing them back inside her again. “And you thought I was gonna pass out.” Sucking upon her bud again, he groaned, low and dirty, fingers circling a hard sweep over her front wall. His arm muscles began flexing in effort as his other rested on her hip, mindful not to move higher and knock her fresh tattoo.
The pleasure blazed into bonfire so quickly it almost hurt, Emma biting her lip as she mewled, hips quivering, her hand grasping tight against his scalp, his tongue rolling over her in a firm beat. Sparks skittered up her spine, her muscles tightening as his fingers had her release brimming, her thighs trembling as it snapped through her, Guero closing his mouth to suck it firmly from her, her legs closing tight around his head.
Warm tingles cradled her as it slowly ebbed away again, sitting up while he emerged from between her legs, meeting him with messy kisses full of need. She reached between her legs, wetting her hand against her folds, curling it firmly around his cock. His hips shunted forward, his groan like a rumble of thunder, her mouth laying kisses over his throat. Little licks make goosebumps rise over his tattooed flesh, hearing his breath hiss as she scraped her teeth over the tight peak of his nipple.
His hand grasped her jaw, his eyes lust drunk as he looked down at her. “Turn over, baby.”
Her tongue ran a slow line back up his chest, over his throat and into his mouth, a smouldering look making his pulse throb before she turned, feeling his hand press at the back of her neck. “Down.”
That singular word, delivered with an alluring air of dominance made something pleasant twist through her insides, lying until she was flat, pushing the round of her ass back against his abs. “Mm, good girl.” The fire that shot through her at hearing such praise, his hand holding her down while the other guided his cock against the soaking mess of her folds.
Many inches of vein ridged, steely thickness dragged through her slit, a whimper pouring from her mouth like wine, the head of him stroking against her clit in exquisite tease. He continued that languid, stimulating stroke, stars prickling his veins, pearls of pre cum smearing against the honey of her cunt before finally, he let it bathe his shaft entirely.
“Ahhh, fuck yes.” he whispered, arrowing her to the hilt, fingers clenching at her neck as she cried out. His eyes fell to the divinely erotic sight of his cock sliding back and forth, watching her pink hugging him, splayed around his thickness, his hand pounding in a hard smack off her ass cheek.
Pushing her thighs together with his knees, the hug around him tightened more with her legs pressed together, Emma gasping into the bed linen beneath her, the friction beyond perfect. Pleasure crackled through her, a slow burn stoked by the steady slip of his cock, her eyes scrunched tightly shut as her mouth hung open in exclamation.
She yearned for raw and unfettered, but oh, how every colour illuminated behind her closed eyelids as he plunged her with all-in, all-out strokes. It rose in heat, like slow, balmy summer beaming through a deep winter chill, sunshine chasing frost over her nerves, her walls fluttering on him as his hand met her ass in a hard spank again.
He’d been gentler with her in the beginning, not wanting to teeter too near to anything that might spark something traumatic for her, until Emma had literally taken his hand, pressed it to her neck and puckered her lips at him. “Hold me down and fuck me rough with that huge dick”, she had told him. Of course, he’d complied.
Incandescent tingles spread through her as he began to thrust with more purpose, hissing a groan as he dragged through the tight velvet of her cunt, golden glimmers glittering at the base of his spine. Her hips shunted back against him, her fingers moving to begin rubbing on her clit as he fucked her relentlessly, ecstasy starting to throb hot within her.
Sharp shocks began to meld with warm, rolling bliss, her muscles tightening as she came apart with a cry, feeling his cock twitching within the snug hug of her slick plush, pulsing ribbons of cum into her with a guttural groan. Pulling out, he watched the load he’d shot in slowly trickle from her opening, his fingers stroking her spine as she dropped flat, his body falling to the side of hers.
Was he finished with her, though? Oh hell, no. He hadn’t drunk a concoction as vile as the one he had just so he could fuck her once. Definitely not.
“Oh god, right there. Fuck me harder, yeah!” Her back slid against the smooth, cool plaster of the bedroom wall, his hands clasping beneath her thighs, short nails leaving red crescents upon her flesh as he fucked her wildly, teeth laying bites across her neck. Beads of sweat ran like tiny rivers over their bodies, the late summer still scorching in temperature even into the early hours of the morning, Emma’s nails dragging scarlet brandings down his back as she screamed her pleasure.
The slick sound of his cock pounding into her soaking cunt filled the room, their kisses filthily indulgent as he speared her so deeply, she felt herself crest on the wave that was him, fucking her orgasm into her unrelentingly. Bright beams continued to glow in the aftermath, his head dipping to suck the pebbled peaks of her nipples in turn, teeth sharp, chasing his own release with determination that had him spilling into her thick and hot, breathless in the aftermath.
Was he finished with her, though? Oh, hell no.
The morning light was beginning to beam in, neither having bothered to close the blinds, Guero watching how the amber light of dawn gilded her flesh in soft, amber rays, lust darkened eyes focusing on her cerulean gaze of utter bliss. As naturally any woman would, with their slit being devoured by the unrelenting hunger of his mouth.
His hand pounded against her hard, Emma grasping her tits as she rocked against his tongue, relentless rushes of bliss darting up her spine. “Mmm, yeah, beautiful. Ride the fuck outta my face.” he groaned, the suction of his full lips causing her to further dampen him.
Each lick warmed her veins, biting pleasure sizzling right to her very bones, soaking him completely as she purled against the contours of his face, her silk gleaming his mouth, nose and chin. The taste of her flowing onto his tongue was a bouquet of indulgence, Guero spanking her hard again, his hands clutching the tight orbs of her ass cheeks, groaning as his tongue pushed inside her. “So goddamned sexy.”
Oh, how she felt it, too, her body at the mercy of the judders that wracked her, shaking as if a current ran right through her. Long licks of chilling heat dragged over her swollen clit, lightning beginning to dart up her spine, his hands clutched tight upon her as she got herself off against the relentless roll of his tongue. He had her feeling like her orgasm had split her apart, the craving in her running rampant, turning around and sinking onto his cock with a satisfied gasp.
Being ridden reverse cowgirl was how he saw in 5am, passed out wrapped around her half an hour later, awaking a few hours after with the kind of hangover that made him feel like someone was drilling into his skull. Not really enjoying drunkenness to such extremes, Emma’s halt at tipsiness meant that she was fine, only tired from a lack of sleep. A little sex sore, too.
“Honey,” she spoke, peeling back the covers from his face, a very pouty, grumpy Guero hiding himself again. “I’m heading out with Lee, you probably don’t remember we made plans last night. I’ll be back later this afternoon. Do you need anything before I go?”
“Darkness and Advil.”
The blinds were drawn, Emma heading to fill a bottle of water for him and deposit two painkillers into his hand. “Here you go. Want me to bring you any food back?”
“Maybe, I dunno. Ugh.” He emerged only to swallow the pills, retreating beneath the covers again.
“Okay, I’m going now.”
“Shhh! No more talking! No noise!”
She snorted laughing. “Okay, sweetie. I’ll be back this evening”
“Noise is still happening, woman! Shut up!” She took his self-pitying whine of light fury with a pinch of salt, leaving the room and kissing Axl’s head before leaving the house.
“Hey boo! Is it alive?”
Turning, she saw Tyrone emerge, grinning. “He’s confined to the bed, hiding from everything.” Remembering Guero’s speed dive through the front window, she began laughing again, Tyrone wishing her a good day before she jumped into Lee’s car.
“Hi sunshine, you look cute!” she chirped, leaning over to kiss her cheek. “How’s your boy?”
“I think emotional sums him up. He’s suffering.” Shifting, she then winced, clipping her seatbelt.
“Tattoo sore?”
“Yeah, but it wasn’t that. I have sex pain, feel like I’ve taken a pneumatic drill vaginally,” she confessed, Lee snorting with a frown as she reversed out and drove off.
“How? Did Nes stay and give you a dickin’, because there’s no way Guero was in any kind of state to do it!”
Her mouth dropped in exclamation, laughing. “No, my guy managed just fine! He had to drink something called a resurrector before he did, though.”
Lee’s eyebrows raised with recognition, indicating and turning right. “Oh, my god! I’d forgotten about Ibarra’s crazy assed drink. He made one for me one time when I was hammered and on the verge of passing out. Most fuckin’ disgusting thing I’ve ever drank. I hurled everywhere, blew chunks, vommed all over. It was nasty! It does work if you can keep it down, though. Shame it don’t cure hangovers!”
Emma smirked widely. “Well, it worked on Guero. Lit a fucking fire under him!”
“Yeah, girl!” she yelled, holding out her fist, Emma duly bumping it. “All I got was Bish passing out in the hallway. Put a blanket over him and left him there, woke up and found him in the exact same spot, with our two cats asleep on his back.” Her laugh sounded loudly, shaking her head. “So, what are we shopping for, what do you need, what are we getting?”
Emma had come to love that about Lee, her repetitions of the same question or statement thrice, each time slightly differently. “A little of everything, I think.”
Lee’s eyes swept over her, humming. “Yeah, you need it. You’re too beautiful a girl for clothes that cheap looking. No offence meant, babe. Every gal deserves some pretty things.”
“None taken,” she shrugged, knowing her wardrobe was basic at best. The only nice things she owned were a few pieces she’d grabbed from a thrift store, the rest the cheaply made garments she’d bought on her first day there. “God, I really need nice underwear most importantly. Not just for me, but I think Guero might be fed up of seeing me in cotton undies and bra tops.”
Lee nodded vigorously, putting her foot down to avoid getting stuck at a red light. “You’ve come to the right place, I am an expert at sexy underwear. Hell, they’re the only fuckin’ things that make me feel girly half the damned time.” Although she wore her makeup nicely when not working, her hair always styled, Lee was not much of a girly girl by her own admission.
Because all of her closest friends were men, too, she’d always been passed by on the girlfriend bonding exercise, never really missing what she didn’t know. An hour later, as she and her young acolyte toured the racks of underwear within a department store much further north from their small town, she found it was actually quite fun.
“This!” Thrusting forward a set, she almost took Emma’s eye out on the hanger with her enthusiasm, the younger of the blondes taking the black lace set and studying it closer. “He’ll jizz his pants as soon as he sees you in that, be able to pogo himself along on his hard-on, fuckin’ throw you down and nail the hell outta ya!”
A nearby older woman shot a look of pure distain, Lee smirking. “What? She’s twenty-nine, not dead, like you.”
Emma almost collapsed with snort laughter. “Lee! Behave.”
She clicked her tongue, picking up another set. “Dunno the meaning of that word. How about this? Actually no, bright red doesn’t suit you. Hang on.” The same set in coral was yanked from the rack, Lee grumbling when it got stuck before freeing it, holding it up against Emma’s torso. “Yep! That’s it. Alrighty, you have about five sets within your little mitts, go try on and send him pics.”
“Okay, but I bet he’s still dead to the world,” she replied, taking the set, Lee juggling her own. Her choices were much simpler. If it was hot pink or animal print, she bought it. Her husband had a thing for her in leopard.
Shrugging, she picked up another set along the way, a gorgeous blush satin two-piece camisole and shorts set edged with black lace, placing them atop Emma’s pile. “Give him something hot to look at when he does finally rouse from his fuckin’ coma. Thirty shots of tequila, my god.” Those weren’t all he’d drunk either.
In the privacy of the dressing rooms, Emma tried on her choices (minus the bottoms of the sets) taking a few pics and sending them to her passed out boyfriend. She decided on all of them, bar one. The beautiful, deep red coloured bra she examined her reflection in suddenly took her back to years before, standing motionless as the memory played.
“You look so fuckin’ hot in that, my little blonde cutie. Gonna come get up on daddy, ride him good, lemme see your pretty little titties bounce in it, huh?”
Coming to with a jolt, she removed the bra at speed, flinging it into the corner as she fought for breath. Fuck Rocco. Fuck him for using her as little more than his own personal sex doll for fifteen years, fuck him for making her feel cheap and dirty. Fuck. Him.
She steeled herself not to cry, but the tears came regardless of her resolve, the shame curling within her again. Why she’d picked up that bra in the first place, she didn’t know. Then again, there was a lot she’d blanked from her memory, the red underwear incident when she was only sixteen being one of them.
Her recovering from everything he’d put her through was like walking through a field of landmines, she realised while drying her eyes and dressing. She had to be very careful where to tread, save being blown to pieces.
“You done in there yet?” Lee’s bark from the other side of the door made her stiffen, Emma now knowing she’d likely spend the rest of the afternoon on high emotional alert, sighing as she opened the door. “Uh-oh, I see tears. Whassup?”
“Dark red bra,” she sniffed, folding her arms tightly as she looked at the floor. “Brought something I’d rather forget back. Didn’t even know it was a trigger until...”
She gulped, her eyes pooling again, Lee softening as she pulled her close. “Look at you, turning me into a huggy person when I’m the fuckin’ farthest thing from it.” True, while Lee was liberal with the kisses to show her affection to friends, the only person she ever really embraced was her husband. “Breathe deep and remember where you are. Take a nice, deep breath, in for six, out for six. Come on, sugar. We’re calming down now, breathe, there you go.”
With her new friend assisting, she managed to battle down the tide of fear that had risen within her, taking her purchases, Lee bending to grasp the triggering dark red bra, holding it out of Emma’s eyeline to hand over to the girl standing at the dressing room entrance. She was proud of her, managing to hold herself together for the rest of their tour of the department store, but her demeanour had changed considerably.
“That’s the thing about drug treatment,” Lee began as they sat eating toasted sandwiches at a coffee shop an hour later, their purchases surrounding the small table. “It can either be a fix all, or fix most. It’s fuckin’ hard, getting that balance right from what I know of treating it.”
“It makes me feel like my life is on hold more than it has to be,” she lamented with a sigh, licking a fleck of crumb from her top lip. “I can’t even exist as a person. He’ll be looking for me, he won’t stop just because I vanished. I wanted to seek out my grandparents and brother, but he probably knows where they are, he’s likely got eyes on them, waiting for me to turn up.”
Lee had wondered, if she’d harboured any plans to reconnect with her family. She did ponder, though, if Emma might’ve been overreacting slightly with how desperate Rocco would be to tie her up as a loose end. The man had many more dealings, all of which could put him away for longer than just the threat of one girl he’d kidnapped singing like a canary to the feds.
“How much of a fuckin’ life are you gonna be able to have, though, being a person in the wind? What I mean is, at some point you’re gonna need an identity. You could remain that way back on Staten Island, because you were kept a secret, or explained away. You never needed to have an identity beyond being the girl in the fuckin’ basement bedroom. I mean like the future. A job, social security, getting a driver’s license, all of that. You need to be someone.”
“I hear you,” she replied, her voice small, beginning to chew her thumb. “I do, I’m just frightened still, especially since I’m not too far removed from him, deciding to stay now things have happened between Guero and I. I was thinking maybe buy a fake identity, so I can actually exist as somebody, even if not my true self, but I don’t know.”
Lee frowned. “Emma, I think you might be overreacting a shade about his reach, because unless he’s paying off a hell of a fuckin’ lot of people who work within say, the DMV, social security, the healthcare sector, etcetera, in all fifty-two states, he ain’t gonna find you. He’d have to have a clue over where you’d ended up in the first place to cast his net, and you’ve been here two months. If he had any inkling at all, he’d have fuckin’ found you by now.”
“He found contacts for the MC easily enough, and all about their dealings in order to secure them as his runners,” she reasoned, Lee shrugging.
“He did, sunshine, but again he knew where he was looking. I also think you’re missing something pretty fuckin’ vital here, too.” Sipping her coffee, she waited to see if Emma would pick it up on her own, the glaringly obvious. “If anyone came for you, Guero would put a fuckin’ bullet in their head. Your boy has a fuckin’ savage temper where it comes to the people he loves. Trust me, you’re fine.”
Lee’s pragmatic reasoning was reassuring, but she still felt unsure. Was she simply being paranoid? Maybe Rocco’s gigantic ego was so big that he considered himself untouchable from the mere word of one woman? Was she truly a threat to him, now she was out from within the grasp of his fist? She shared her thoughts, Lee nodding vigorously.
“You got it. That man moves massive amounts of, ahem, product on a global scale. He sits at the head of the biggest organised crime family in existence,” she began in whisper, leaning forward in her seat. “The saying bigger fish to fry comes to mind.”
Perhaps she was right, maybe she truly wasn’t of significance to Rocco, bearing in mind every other single moving piece he had to watch like a hawk upon a daily basis. Finishing the last bite of her sandwich, she figured that it didn’t require a decision right at that moment. The only thing she had to figure out that afternoon was putting it all to the back of her mind and continuing to enjoy herself with Lee.
They were very different women, also in a completely separate age bracket with Lee being twenty years her senior, but they were enjoying developing a firm friendship with one another. So much so that Lee even offered Emma some cash in hand work with her a few mornings a week, furthering the little she knew about motorcycles and their mechanics. She needed a helping hand, after all, and Emma more of a purpose than constantly cleaning Guero’s house.
When she arrived home, though, there was a definite purpose that he required her to serve.
“You look a lot less grumpy than when I left,” she commented, finding him lying on the couch watching a movie, greeting her with his usual wide smile.
“Yeah, sorry I was a cranky asshole this morning. Even my eyelashes hurt,” he laughed, granting her the kiss she sought. “So, those pictures you sent me...” His grin continued to widen, reaching under her dress to stroke her thighs, “I think I need to see the black set up close, just to gauge how long it’ll take me to remove it with my teeth.”
She’d never moved to a bedroom so quickly in all of her life.
One Friday update for you all, besties! Hope you have a lovely weekend :D
Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven Twelve
Words - 3,986
Warnings - 18+ content throughout, Minors DNI. Recounts of kidnap, child trafficking, physical/verbal/sexual abuse.
The grasp upon the top of her arm was so tight, she could feel pain down to the bone, his thick fingers vice-like, manhandling her, dragging her along as she stumbled and slipped upon the perfectly polished floor.
That glossy marble was hard on her knees as she was thrown into a heap, turning to face him, grunting in pain when he kicked her in the thigh.
“What’s what right there?”
“Wh-what?”
His hand went to her hair, pushing her head down. “That there, you blind puttana!”
A tiny smudge upon the floor, Emma pulling the cloth from her pocket and immediately buffing it away. “I-I’m sorry, I’m s-so sorry, R-Rocco.”
“You damned oughta be.” Each stern word was bitten off from his boxy, white teeth. “Now get out there and mow the lawn, you lazy cunt. Move it!”
His foot hitting her in the ass was the breaker of her dream, Emma sitting up with a gasp in bed. Gathering herself and her bearings, she caught her breath, at least glad she hadn’t woken in a zoned-out state and ended up in the closet or the corner. Unfortunately, she had disturbed the man who always found here there.
“Y’okay, Em?” he muffled sleepily from within the pillows, his hand moving to stroke her back. Unfortunately, the prazosin she’d been prescribed to treat her nightmares hadn’t kicked in yet, the doctor explaining it would take a week or two, perhaps longer. At least she was on the right track with it, though.
Thankfully the drugs he’d given her to decrease anxiety were starting to work in her waking life, which was a definite ease of emotional burden. Sudden loud noises no longer spooked her, and she was much less nervous around new people. Shouting still made her jumpy, though. Baby steps.
“Yeah, yeah I’m okay now.” Sighing, she reached for the lamp, turning it on and locating her water bottle. Chugging back a few mouthfuls, she saw Guero’s hand making a grabby motion coming into her line of vision. “There you go, my little brontosaurus.”
He snorted softly, taking a few gulps. “For someone who hisses like a demon in her sleep, you need to knock that shit off. I never know whether I should pinch your nose or call a fucking priest.”
“Oh, so he’s comedy brontosaurus!” He tickled her for that, handing the water bottle back as she giggled. Humour. It was about the only way she knew how to deal with the nightmares from her ordeal, two months after finally escaping it. At least he indulged her in it, being a comic person by nature. Okay, so there was a fair amount of smart mouthed sass that also went hand in hand with it, but still, nobody made her laugh like Guero.
There were also other ways she dealt with the lingering effect of her nightmares; ones that also involved something else he was very good at.
“Can’t sleep?” he asked, after she’d turned over and huffed for the fourth time.
“Nope.”
Moving the covers off them, he shifted himself between her legs. “I gotta real good remedy for that.”
He truly did, pushing her thighs apart to bury his mouth between them. She gasped, his tongue pushing through her folds, taking that first explorative lick at her. Using his fingers, he parted the petals of her cunt, licking her again, a slow, flat drag of his tongue causing her back to arch off the bed, bending elegantly like a bow. He smirked to himself, the thrill of having caused such a response with a mere two licks.
His eyes took in her glinting hole, sparkling pink and dewy with need already, pushing his tongue within her, a cry leaving her mouth, slowly dragging a hard lick up to her clit and proceeding to circle, softly at first, making her tingle. He coaxed further exclamations from her, those responses causing his cock to harden, fast little flicks over her bud making it swell.
“Mmm, you like that, huh?”
“Oh, I’ll give you about a month to stop!” Her words made him chuckle deeply, gently kissing her, wrapping her clit in the soft, pillowy heat of his full lips and sucking, her nails digging into the thickness of his shoulders as she trembled. Her head spun, running her nails over his scalp as she quivered, hips softly undulating against his face, each lick at her clit like wet heat driving cool fire as he built her up steadily.
The sensations of bliss pooling against his mouth turned his groans to gravel, eating her with more fervour, devouring every last bit of her pink, sending pleasure sparking up her spine. Her release brimmed forth, her little cries of ecstasy driving him on, his tongue lashing hard against her. It sent her reeling as she teetered and then exploded, the release washing over her, her waves crashing against his shore and leaving her breathless.
She was still warmed to her veins with the haze of bliss when he moved behind her, hooking her leg under his arm and gliding into the satin of her pussy, Emma mewling softly at the delicious stretch of him parting her walls. Another thing she’d managed to procure from the discreet doctor were contraceptive pills, of which he’d furnished her with enough of to last until their next appointment.
The hot, naked drag of him within her, no longer barriered by latex felt incredible, his mouth buried at her neck, kissing a constellation onto her flushed skin as he groaned faintly. Glimmers shot through her from the insanely deep punch of his cock, the pace slow and rolling, his hips quivering against her as she fluttered around him.
For her, it was the kind of intensity that made her heart swell, bolts burning brightly in her chest. His hand reached beneath her neck, turning her head to lean his face near, nuzzling her softly before he kissed her with smouldering desire. Sex with Rocco had never been like that, but then again, since it was against her will she understood well that what she had with Guero was a million miles from it.
What they shared was beyond anything she could have ever imagined back then.
“Fucking love you so much, baby,” he groaned, kissing her again with stormy affection. It was the moment she’d longed for, for years and years, to have a man fall in love with her, hear him tell her that with sincerity unmatched. God, her heart.
“I - oh fuck, fuck, fuck - I love you too, ahhh!” she cried, her voice breaking as the deep spear of his cock sent pleasure bursting through her.
“And if that isn’t the most beautiful way for me to hear you say it, right between those pretty little moans.” It gathered momentum, swirling like a tempest, sharp little shocks skittering over them, their bodies heated and sweat slicked. A frisson of warmth pooled low in her, the sudden overflow having her crying out, her mouth breaking from his as she wailed. He followed her into the abyss of undoing, his teeth sharp at her neck, hot breaths blasting against her skin as the tight clutch of his hands upon her finally slackened.
He lay inside her for a time, fingers trailing her breasts, kissing her shoulder as they enjoyed the feeling of their nerves still tingling in afterglow. Finally, he slid from her with a slippery pop, pulling the covers back over them, his arm tightening around her waist. She slept very, very soundly that night, waking from a long sleep at 9am, she and Guero with nowhere to go and nothing to do for the morning.
“Why did you choose the moment you did to tell me you loved me?” she asked out of nowhere, stroking his chest idly.
It was a question he hadn’t been expecting, Guero smirking a little with the randomness. “Um, might’ve been prompted by the fact I was balls deep in you at the time.” He puffed his cheeks out, eyes rounding as he looked down at her, the expression cracking her up.
“Well, at least you’re honest.”
“And so damned romantic, huh?” The playful sarcasm dripped from him, lacing his fingers through hers and kissing her hand, turning to her. “I did mean it, though. I did. I do. You’re incredible. You’re beautiful and gentle, and so much stronger than you know, too. Haven’t told a woman that in a long time either, that I love her.”
“Who was the last before me?” she asked, skimming his collarbone with her thumb.
He winced slightly, but offered an answer all the same. “A girl called Astrid Henry. We were together for five years before I found out she’d been fucking my cousin for the last fourteen months of it.”
Her mouth dropped open immediately. “Who in their right mind would cheat on a guy as great as you?” It baffled her completely. To her eyes, he was the complete package.
“Someone who was being neglected, but still liked the lifestyle offered to her from dating an outlaw. I was coming up in the club more back in Tuscon, reconnecting with my dad, too. I didn’t put her first a lot of the time. Then when I found out, me and my sparky fucking temper acted before the rational side kicked in. I should have just called it quits with her, but nah. I went and fucked her best friend, because I’m vengeful.” He scrunched his nose up, shaking his head. “Wasn’t my proudest moment.”
She shrugged, squeezing his hand. “At least you acknowledge it. I think the person I’m slowly starting to become now I’m out from under the weight of Rocco recognises that, the need to hurt if I've been hurt. I can feel there’s something growing within me that wants to get back at him, and it’s gnawing at me that I can’t. Anyway, I’m not making this all about me. What did Astrid do when she found out about you and her friend?”
“Threw a lamp at me,” he began, biting the corner of his lip, “because when she found out, I was piledriving the friend in question at the time. Set it up so she’d catch me doing it, wanted to hurt her as badly as she had me. It all fucking went crazy after that, cops showed up because of all the yelling, I spent a night in the cells because of it, until my dad came down and smoothed things over with the local PD. I then got one of the famed Ibarra rants for the entire journey home about not thinking with my dick. I guess he was right.”
“From what you’ve told me, he seems like the type who’d never miss an opportunity to call you out,” she laughed, watching him nod vigorously.
“Uh huh, the old man was all about that. Teachable moments, delivered at a billion decibels.” He smiled, thinking of his dad, the sadness that they were only just getting back on track again before he’d died stinging at his insides. Those few years they’d had at the end of his life weren’t enough. He brightened then, remembering something. “There was another thing he told me that’s always stuck, something useful.”
“Yeah? What was it?”
Turning her onto her back, he pinned her there, hands curling around her arms as he leaned to place kisses against her throat. “That if a woman can still get up and walk after you’re done with her, you didn’t do your job properly.”
She raised an eyebrow. “So, what’s your aim here, hmm?”
His mouth continued to glide, the crush of his teeth around her nipple sending a jolt through her. “Total paralysis.”
Once he was finished railing her into the bed, she could still walk, but it was extremely bow legged and wobbly. After showering and having something to eat, they headed down to the clubhouse on foot, Axl trotting along between them happily. He usually didn’t head down of a Sunday, but Emma had reason to that day, booked in with Hank to begin a project they’d discussed a couple of weeks back. She tired of her scars, and he was the very man who could help her with that.
A couple of other guys were hanging around, Gilly, Nestor and Bottles, EZ absconded to his trailer with some girl or another, from the sounds coming from it as they’d walked past. Hank was all set up in the corner, greeting her with a big smile.
“You ready, then?”
She nodded, cringing a little bit. “As I’ll ever be.” Removing her top, Hank cleaned down the area first before taking one of the two transfers he’d drawn out, making sure it hit her skin just right before placing it down. “Like we discussed, this is just to give me a guide. Anything else I can free hand, make sure every last scar is covered up.”
He’d suggested the flowers he was placing upon her, a full colour piece of tree peonies and oriental poppies, flowers with large blooms to cover the most, the vivid reds, purples and oranges she wanted them in acting further to camouflage what lay beneath.
Arranging herself on the table, she prepared for pain, Hank beginning with the outlines first, of which he’d told her to anticipate would be the worst. The needles hit her skin, yet her face didn’t change. He exchanged a glance with Guero, the men raising their eyebrows a fraction in surprise. She’d probably start to make some kind of noise to voice discomfort as soon as he hit bone, he wagered, but once there, her reaction was zero. She sat solid.
“I hope you know you’re making your guy here look like a pussy right now by comparison,” he chuckled, Guero raising his middle finger. “When I put that elephant on his side, he bitched and complained the entire time.”
“That shit hurts!” he exclaimed, Emma curling her lip a little.
“Eh. It isn’t too bad. Kinda soothing.”
“Soothing?” A head shot up across the clubhouse, Gilly ambling his bulk over. “Nah, you’re cheating and using numbing cream, girl. Ain’t no way anybody would claim ribcage tattoos are fucking soothing otherwise, nah. Uh-uh. It’s hell.”
She shrugged lightly. “Hell is being held down by your throat and having red hot knives held against your flesh. Gives you a new appreciation for how cattle must feel, I can tell you.”
At hearing that snippet, Hank stopped tattooing immediately. He’d been much too considerate of her privacy to ask exactly how she’d gotten her scars when she’d shyly revealed them to him, but hearing that sent a chill through his blood. Gilly’s too.
“Wait, Lombardi did this to you?” the bald man asked, his forehead crinkling from the depth of his frown.
“He did,” she hummed quietly, reaching to stroke Guero’s arm, noticing the little giveaways of his temper flaring. Tight jaw, flared nostrils. It still made him seethe.
Gilly shook his head. “Motherfucker, doing that to a girl. What the fuck? Damn, no wonder you’re sitting it rocksteady. I’ve burned myself on hot metal before lemme tell you, I’ll take tattoo pain every time!”
“Yeah, me too,” Hank grumbled, nodding as he looked at her. “You’re damned tough, Emma.”
Having a couple of big, scary outlaws tell her that was perhaps the highest praise, she thought. “Did what I had to do to survive. This is why I said it was soothing. Cathartic, even, covering up what he did with something beautiful.”
Although they had no comprehension over everything she must have gone through, they could understand that desire, at least. She sat relatively unflinching for the first two hours, all the outlines and a little of the colour done, having a few sips of water before she lay back for the remaining two, soldiering on, wanting the first half finished.
“Can we do the outlines for my lower back too while we’re at it, or are you getting hand cramp?” Emma asked, Hank flexing his hand after putting the tattoo machine down.
“I could, but you’ve sat for long enough today. Go get something to eat and rest.” Pausing, he then picked up the large mirror at his side lifting it onto his lap. “Ready to see it?”
She nodded, Hank turning it around as she shuffled side on and lifted her arm. Immediately, she let out a little sob. They were gone. Every single one of them, and in their place something truly, truly beautiful. “Hank! Oh my god, I love it! Thank you.”
He returned the hug she slid down to give him, feeling his cheeks flush a little when she kissed his cheek. “You’re welcome. Let’s get it covered for you.” One large dressing applied and she was done, Guero moving to hug him.
“It’s dope as fuck, man. Thanks for doing that for her.” he told him earnestly with a nod, Hank smiling. Looking over at Emma, it was worth the hand cramp he’d lied about having, knowing how important it was to her that she cover up at least one third of the scars that obviously brought her emotional stress. She seemed to stand a little taller, her smile a little wider as she stood talking to Bottles.
“I have to walk around like this now, like I’m doing the half chicken dance!” she exclaimed, holding her arm up, Bottles shaking with laughter. What a difference to the terrified young woman who’d first entered the clubhouse in Guero’s arms two months prior.
They decided to remain at the clubhouse for the rest of the evening, Bishop and Lee arriving, ordering in pizza, beer and tequila flowing. They flowed so much, in fact, that Emma got to witness a first; a smashed Guero.
“You gonna be okay getting him and the dog home?” Nestor asked, who had Axl lying across his lap, enjoying the belly rubs he was receiving.
Emma turned to view Guero, him and Gilly near cry laughing at something Bottles was telling them, her guy collapsed on the bar. “Not too sure,” she replied, before calling out to him. “Honey! Can you walk?”
“Pfft, course I can, hic, walk!” he yelled through a loud hiccup, sliding off the stool onto his feet, wobbling. “M’drunk, not, not... th’thing where y’can’t walk.”
She shook her head, resting a hand to her brow. “No, but he’s definitely the thing where he can’t talk.”
Nestor snort laughed as he reached to squeeze her arm. “I’ll help you get him back.” Guero protested this, yelling that he was ‘habsoltey, hic, fine!’, Nestor shaking his head and steering him away from walking into the doorframe. It continued along the twenty-five-minute walk back to the house, Guero entertaining them if nothing else.
“Baby, be ready. Cuz’ imma, hic, smash the hell outta you when wh’home,” he proclaimed, turning to Emma with a huge, dopey grin, Nestor moving quickly to prevent him from walking into a streetlamp.
“Bro, the only thing you’re gonna smash is yourself. Eyes forward man,” he advised.
“You can’t tell me whadda do!” His roared words filled the mostly desolate street, Emma in soft fits as she walked, Axl trotting along obediently at her side. “Gonna go bone the living fhuk outta my woman!”
He continued to behave like a complete liability for the rest of the journey home, stumbling up the drive, their return heard by the local all-seeing eye next door.
“Fuckboy hammered outta his mind, yo!” Tyrone yelled, his high-pitched laugh sounding as he emerged from behind the curtains. Immediately, Guero’s face lit up.
“Tyrone! Whassup, bro?” he beamed, steaming across the lawn at full, drunken stampede.
“Oh Jesus. Apply brakes man, slow down... woah!” he cried, scream laughing as Guero heaved himself up and then promptly vanished through the window rapidly, landing in Tyrone’s living room with a loud thud. Emma and Nestor couldn’t breathe for their hysterics, walking over, peering in to see him lying on his back laughing, Tyrone hissing with tears running down his face. “Fuckboy be all up in here with his bad gymnastics. You scored a solid two point zero for the window vault, my man! You okay, bro? Fuck!”
"M'great! Window vault was at least a, hic, seven, holding out on me, Tyrone!"
The big man continued to laugh, wheezing hard as he turned to Nestor and Emma. "I know I give the mofo' shit, but I love this guy so fuckin' much! He the damned best when he hammered!"
Guero finally peeled himself off the floor, grabbing a handful of chips from the bag and shrugging. “Love you, too, big poppa! Gonna go score higher in the sexy ghymnhast-hics!”
Tyrone continued to hiss laugh. “You ain’t doin’ shit other than passin’ out!”
“WATCH ME!” he roared, spraying a mouthful of chips everywhere before vanishing from the room. Emerging through the front door and slamming it behind him, he stumbled over to Nestor, holding his face in his hands and kissing his forehead. “Love you, Sacagawea. Later!”
His words were followed by another hiccup, Emma thanking Nestor for his assistance and saying goodnight to him and Tyrone, surprised to see Guero actually manage to get his key in the front door and slide inside, almost toppling over. Oh, god. After unclipping Axl from his leash, the dog moving to curl up on the armchair, she ventured through to the kitchen, finding Guero raiding the cupboards.
“Love, what are you doing?” she groaned softly, a packet of soup mix hitting the floor with a thud.
“Need instant choffee.”
Confusion creased her face. “But you don’t like instant coffee.”
“Need it! No time to, hic, do choffee macheeeen! Makin’ my dad’s sober drink. Called in the, hic, resurrector.” He paused, burping, giggling to himself and muttering something undecipherable. “Well, m’not gonna be properly sober, but it wakes a dude up.” He continued his searching, finally finding it, hiccupping again. He poured a frightening amount into a mug, putting water into another and taking it to the microwave, putting it on and then staggering to the fridge.
“An egg, hot sauce and Red Bull?” Emma inquired, raising her eyebrow.
Guero turned, grinning. “Trust the process. Ten minutes and m’gonna be alive aghain.”
She expected the process was going to make him throw up, if she was honest. Watching him concoct the disgusting sounding remedy, she felt ill just imagining the flavour and texture of it. Guero paused, taking a deep breath before knocking it back. Immediately, he heaved.
“Bathroom, now!” she ordered, pointing in the direction. “Really, honey. I can’t deal with cleaning up puke.”
He held his finger up, heaving again, swallowing hard. “Ten minutes.”
“Are you going to be alright if I go shower? I’m too hot.”
He beamed. “Damn right, y’are. Leave it on cold f’me.”
She left the bathroom door open, anticipating a thud she’d have to go and collect him up off the floor from, showering carefully around her fresh tattoo. He entered the room about five minutes after she’d left him in the kitchen, singing to himself as he brushed his teeth. Remaining unconvinced of the process she was meant to trust, she exited the shower, switching it to cold, Guero climbing in.
“MOTHER FUCK, that’s freezing!” Well, he sounded less slurred. Still, though, the expectation was for him to hit the bed and pass out. What she didn’t expect was a steadier looking Guero to enter the room, whisk the covers off her and hum with approval.
“Spread your legs, baby. Lemme see that pretty little pussy.” Doing as instructed, she pulled her legs splayed, her knees touching her chest, Guero’s grin widening. “Mmm, fuck yeah. That’s what I’m talking about.”
Her day might have begun with a nightmare, but how it ended was anything but.
Heeey, I would like to participate in your recent DRABBLES / SHORT REQUESTS game. May I please get a story with Alfie Solomons using the prompt:
11. “I don’t like this anymore. I don’t like the person you’ve become.”
Thankies 🥰🙏🏻
Hey love! Why yes, yes you may! :D Nice to write a bit of Alfie again!
His eyes round as he waches the scene before him, unable to truly process that it's you who has unleashed her fire in such a brutal, bloodthirsty manner. He always called you his little ketsele, or his motek, little Hebrew names of love that showed his affection.
He isn't sure if they apply any longer, having watched the sight of you using a broken chair leg to beat a man to death.
Turning to him, with the dead man's blood flecking your face like crimson freckles, you shrug. "What?"
He hisses a breath, nodding to himself. "Ain't what I was expecting, all that."
Your retort is simple, to the point. "He deserved it."
"I know, my darlin', I do know that. But the thing is, right, I ain't good with it. I ain't good with you being the one to rain down the retribution. I don’t like this anymore. I don’t like the person you’ve become."
You approach him slowly, taking a silky handkerchief from your pocket, dropping the chair leg onto the ground with a clatter and beginning to wipe your hands. "Yeah? Well, maybe you shouldn't have made me this way, eh, Alfie."
"Yeah, yeah, sweetheart," he concedes, sniffing as he looks down at the mangled skull of the man who dared cross you both. "Maybe I shouldn't have."
Thank you so much to everyone for your reads, reblogs and reviews. I appreciate you hugely :)
Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten Eleven
Words - 3,465
Warnings - 18+ content throughout, Minors DNI. Recounts of kidnap, child trafficking, physical/verbal/sexual abuse.
“You okay?”
She took a moment to assess that, pulling the helmet from her head as she looked over at the clubhouse. “I think so.”
Guero slid an arm around her waist, kissing her cheek. “Just remember, everyone here is a friend. Nobody wants to hurt you.”
“It isn’t that,” she quickly corrected, fluffing her hair as she let out a long breath. “It’s just the last time I came here, I was still so scared and bent out of shape. I hate the term triggering, but that’s kind of what it is.”
He could understand that stance. The clubhouse was home from home to him, but for Emma, it symbolised a time she was desperately trying to move forward from, being so distrusting and suspicious of the new place and everybody within it, all bar him. And maybe one other person.
“Tell you what, we gotta head in now, but I know EZ will want you to confirm everything I’ll go in there and tell him. You wait with Lee, and I’ll come get you when we’re done.” It was Monday, Guero calling EZ on Saturday night and informing him he had something to bring to the table, his president telling him he’d schedule something for Monday. It was a lot easier for communications if the guys didn’t all have raging hangovers, as was the norm for a Sunday.
She nodded, receiving a kiss from him before he pointed her in the direction of the workshop, Emma walking over, looking all around as she did. It was much bigger than she’d noticed when there in the darkened early hours of the morning, bits of bikes littering the immediate space around the workshop. It was very in place with the haphazard collection of scrap that walled their surroundings.
“Oil hose, we ain’t buddies. Why’d the fuck do you keep leaking, you’re brand new!” she heard Lee muttering, coming to a stop and clearing her throat. “Emma! How you doin’, how’s it going, you good?”
She smiled at her chirp. “Yeah, yeah I’m good. Or at least better than when you last saw me.”
“I’ll fuckin’ say!” she snorted, clamping off the hose and shaking her head, giving it the double middle finger salute, standing to wipe her dirty hands on a rag. “You look great, sugar. Put on a couple of much needed pounds, I see. You were kinda scary skinny when we met.”
She remembered back to the shocking sight of herself in the bathroom mirror, nodding as she fiddled with her hair. “Yeah, I was. I never want to see a protein bar again, or I’ll barf. It’s what I survived on in the container.”
Lee snorted softly, raising her eyebrows. “I can see why. If nothing else than they taste fuckin’ awful. My old man snacks on ‘em and I can’t bear the damned things. Taste vile, like dried dough, stale cookies, man!” She paused for a second, looking between Emma and the bike she was working on, feeling awkward.
It was entirely mutual.
They had shared a personal experience together, Lee being the person Emma had trusted enough in a state of fear and anxiety to look after her, yet not knowing one another at all. The elephant in the room that was Emma’s arrival in her life also made it difficult, Lee knowing she was tiptoeing around blurting out that very question. She curbed her usual bluntness, though.
“Cut looks like it’s healed nicely,” she finally spoke, Emma approaching the bike she was working on, wondering how anyone kept it on two wheels. It was enormous, reminding her of one her dad had when she was five.
She thumbed her head, nodding. “Yeah, it did. Guero took the stitches out for me last night as they were starting to come undone and push out.” Lee resisted the urge to say that a biker with a cute smile and a steady hand could have still ballsed it up easily, noting it wasn’t a necessary observation when he’d done a good job, Emma continuing. “Do you want a hand with anything?”
“Nah, don’t want you to ruin your dress, sunshine,” she replied, waving her hand casually.
Emma smirked, looking down at the beige, pink and blue flowery dress she had on with her new (to her) cowboy boots she’d bought from a thrift store a few days back. “It only cost a couple a’ five bucks, it’s not irreplicable. I need to get to buying some better clothes, actually. Guero has a limit of twenty minutes with being taken shopping before he gets bored, so I don’t want to torture him.”
A couple a’ five bucks, Lee recognised that syntax instantly. New Jersey, although Emma didn’t have the accent at all. She’d served with troops who hailed from the garden state, and they used the same speech patterns. “He’s just like Obispo.” A slight twitch of her eye confirmed that it was a name she hadn’t heard. “That’s Bishop’s actual name.”
“Ahh.”
“Yeah, so me being somewhat of a loner where girlfriends are concerned, I just go by myself to circumvent the fuckin’ sour face and frowning,” she snorted, once again trying the hose only for oil to come dripping out. “Fuck’s sake! Fuckin’ thing! Complete bastard!” she fumed. “So yeah, if you ever wanna come with me, I’d love the company.”
“I’d really like that. Thanks, Lee,” she smiled, looking down at the oil stopped dripping, Lee clamping the hose off once more. Her eyes took a little tour over the drips, noticing something that perhaps the pretty lady mechanic might’ve missed. “Here, the sealing washer has dropped out. That’s why it’s leaking.”
Lee rolled her eyes. “Well, I’ll be fuckin’ bent over and poked up the butt with a ten-inch cock!” she exclaimed, Emma snort laughing at her expression, remembering back to the afternoon before where she’d received just that. She wasn’t sure Guero’s cock was quite that long, but it couldn’t be too far off. “Thanks, sugar. That’s a good eye you have, especially knowing what it was. Alrighty, let’s get it back on the hose.”
“My dad used to do up old bikes. Some he kept; most he sold on. I’d sit in his garage and help him, so I picked stuff up,” she explained, Lee nodding as she listened, refitting the hose with its sealing washer back in and unclamping it. No drips.
“Yes! Gimme some knucks!” She held her fist out, Emma bumping hers against it with a smile. “I might have to take you up on your offer to help me out. I just got rid of my last guy; he became too preoccupied with the idea of joining the MC.”
“Oh, was it Bottles?” she asked curiously, Lee shaking her head.
“Nah. He was a guy they wouldn’t even consider. Didn’t have the mettle, and you fuckin’ gotta have balls to live in this life.” Emma could well imagine. It was the same as people willingly wanting to join the life she’d left behind. Entrenched in the world of the mafia, only the strong survived. Was she strong, she wondered, or just lucky? She’d gotten out alive but not unscathed, so perhaps a little of both.
“Sounds like what I’m used to,” she replied quietly, picking a crumb of mud from the bike’s exhaust pipe. They fell into an uncomfortable silence, Lee chewing the inside of her cheek as she looked between Emma and the Harley a few times. “You want to ask me about it, don’t you?”
She did. It had been itching at her curiosity, but she didn’t want to be insensitive. “Yeah, but only if that’s cool with you. You can tell me I’m being a nosey ole’ bag if you like, I don’t mind. I mean shit, I dunno if you’ve even fuckin’ said anything to Guero yet. Yeah, yeah ignore me, pay no mind, I’ll shut up.” She made an annoyed noise in her throat, shaking her head of wild, blonde waves. “Poor chick walked up to your fuckin’ workshop all of ten minutes ago and you’re expecting her to spill!”
Emma sensed a very good person within Lee, someone she could perhaps come to call friend. “It’s okay, I’ll tell you. You got a seat?”
Two old beer bottle crates were proffered forth, Lee pulling out her cigarettes and lighting up, offering the pack to Emma as they sat down. “Don’t smoke, but thanks. So yeah, I was in that container because I ran away from Rocco Lombardi, who’d been holding me prisoner for nineteen years.”
She went into her explanation, not quite as detailed as the one she’d given Guero, but all the same, it contained enough details to make Lee’s jaw drop in absolute horror at several points throughout. By the time she was finished, the woman at her side sat with her hands clasped over her mouth, shaking her head.
“Fuck.”
“Sums it up nicely, huh?”
“Fuck!” She dropped her hands in her lap, scoffing in disbelief, her eyes bewildered. “I’m not a hugger, I really ain’t, but Christ, sugar.” Emma felt herself pulled into slender, tattooed arms, Lee stroking her back as she held her. “You’re so brave, enduring all that. Fuckin’ fuck, no wonder you were that way when you first arrived here!”
She shrugged a little, chewing her thumb as they parted. “I don’t know if I’d call it brave entirely. I kind of froze myself to it, accepted my fate. Like I said too, Marie made it better. At least I had her, but it’s still kicking me in the ass, that I abandoned her.”
“I understand,” Lee nodded, shaking herself suddenly. “Well no, I don’t, but I get what you mean. Listen, babe, you couldn’t stay for her. She might’ve been mom to you, but you know you didn’t fuckin’ belong there, and what’s more so did she. I bet she completely understands.”
“Unless she’s worried out of her mind that Rocco offed me and my body got dumped into the sea or similar.”
“Why not reach out to her? I can bet as soon as Marie reads that message, she’ll be smart enough to delete it. But like, don’t let me dictate. If you wanna just vanish it’s up to you, your call, you make the decision.”
Emma continued chewing her thumb for a few moments, weighing it up. “I think I might, you know. Think I might. Her and the kids are literally the only things I miss.”
“At least you’d be able to let her know you’re alright before you move on,” Lee smiled thinly, folding her arms on her thighs and resting her head down. She was tired. Not that she didn’t love her husband to his very bones, but she did wish his horny time wasn’t between one and three in the morning. “About that, though. How will it sit with you, knowing of course that the club deals with the very man you escaped? I mean whatever it is that’s bloomed between you and pretty boy specifically.”
Of course, it had played on her mind, being right there in the midst of Rocco’s drug runners ever since she arrived. Since things had turned up a gear between her and Guero, though, she’d been too dizzy with happiness to think more on it. Lee’s question was valid, though. “I knew exactly who and what Guero was from the first second I saw him, a member of the MC who ran drugs for Rocco. I’m fine with it. I know it happens, I might’ve come here all shaky and wide eyed, but I’m not a naïve woman.
“Living in the world I did for so long; I know the deal. I just have to hope that he never comes to visit unexpectedly, but why would he? As long as the guys continue to keep on running his heroin over the border and up to the docks, he won’t have to move his ass to oversee anything.”
Thinking on her words, Lee had to admit that it made perfect sense, such a standpoint. She’d survived in a world steeped in organised crime; she’d acclimatise perfectly to being involved with an outlaw. With a few layers of her trauma peeled back, it was clear that Emma was intelligent, sensible and strong. Probably a lot stronger than she realised.
“Well, here’s fuckin’ hoping he stays up on his Staten Island throne, huh?” Just then they were disturbed by the approach of the one Lee had referred to as pretty boy, Emma’s face lighting up. Lee side eyed her with a little knowing grin. She remembered that face, back when she’d begun dating Bishop, often catching her reflection and trying to dial it back. Such had never been attainable. She loved him way too much.
“Can I steal my girl?”
Emma thought her heart was about to thump clean out of her chest, hearing him call her that. Lee’s reply was the perfect antidote to her falling too far into enamoured dizziness, though.
“No, she’s mine now, you can’t have her back! I need her, she has good eyes for things I apparently miss, like fuckin’ sealing washers.”
Guero cocked his head, looking entertained. “If you actually wore your glasses on your face rather than your head, you’d miss a lot less.”
“Bah!” she dismissed, standing up and lighting herself another cigarette. “They make me look old!”
“That’s because you are old.”
Oh, his smart mouth. How it’d be his downfall. “You know it’s never, ever wise to anger a woman who can tamper with your brake lines and make it look like a manufacturing fault, don’t you, Ortiz?”
His eyebrows fluttered, his grin widening. “I’ll make sure I never do, then.”
Her lips tightened, her eyes narrowing as he laughed. “Fuckin’ smart ass. Get outta here!”
“I was going anyway.” He received a soft elbow from Emma as they began to walk, calling over her shoulder to Lee that she’d see her later. Walking back over to the clubhouse, he could feel Emma’s body beginning to tense at his side, placing a splayed hand across her lower back. “S’okay, mamas. You’re not gonna have a big audience, just EZ and Bish.”
Those words reassured her, Guero opening the door and gesturing with his hand, Emma entering the clubhouse. The sound of laughing as pool balls clicked and music she recognised as Motorhead (one of Guero’s favourite bands) filtering from the speakers filled the space, the scent of alcohol and cigarette smoke just as strong as she’d remembered. God, she could really go to town on cleaning the place, she thought, being steered to her right.
There at a table sat EZ and Bishop, the former standing with a wide smile. “Well, well. You look a hell of a lot better than you did two weeks ago, sweetheart.” He reached to pat her arm gently, gesturing to the couch opposite where he and the president were sitting.
He could see the nervousness flickering in her eyes still, of course knowing she wasn’t out of the woods from her ordeal just yet. It’d take a long time, but the improvement she had made was noticeable. She stood a little taller, looked much less anxious even though it of course was still just under the surface with her.
She moved to take a seat, jumping a little when Gilly loudly celebrated his potting of a ball over at the pool table, her stiffened body relaxing a fraction when Guero took his place at her side.
“Good to see you looking less spooked, Emma,” EZ acknowledged with a nod and a wide smile. “Again, I apologise for my actions when we first met.” She wasn’t convinced that the apology was at all genuine, something about him giving her a feeling of unease. “Alright, tell us what you know about this alleged trafficking you think we’re gonna be propositioned to get involved with.”
As if speaking of Marie earlier to Lee had invoked a little of her courage, Emma’s reply was forthright and crisp. “There’s nothing alleged about it. They’ve been dabbling in it for nearly twenty years, snatching children from the arms of their parents, but in recent times they’ve become much shrewder. Runaways, young kids on the streets, those who won’t be so easily noticed as missing, like I was.”
“And you heard him say in as many words that he planned to begin bringing undocumented kids over?” Bishop asked, his eyes narrowing at the very thought of any other children facing what Emma had suffered. Guero hadn’t gone into huge amounts of detail, but what he had shared with them, it’d been bad enough.
She scoffed a little, cocking her head with a shy smile as she tucked her hair behind her ear. “He was never stupid enough to say it in as many words, but I got to know his lingo, his code phrases. Tiny consignment meant kids, and when he called meetings at his home, usually under the guise of an innocent guy's night playing poker, I’d overhear. It was always his intention to begin running the tiny consignment along with golden brown. You’ll get the reference if you’re familiar with the song by The Stranglers.” Of course, she meant the heroin, the song long thought to either be about a girl of Mediterranean heritage, or the pleasure of the narcotic.
Both men nodded, Emma continuing. “I have no idea when he’s going to put his proposition to you, I’m afraid I can’t be helpful there. At a guess I’d say a while, though. He probably wants to ensure the runs you’re making for him continue to go smoothly before you’ll be expected to begin trafficking children, too. Just know that he will, and if you don’t comply, well.” She paused, gulping. If they didn’t, they’d all be dead, and she’d be back on Staten Island. “I don’t have to spell it out for any of you.”
“I guess we play the waiting game. Moving heroin is one thing, trafficking kids? We aren’t about that,” EZ spoke, exchanging a glance with Bishop.
He began nodding, scratching his beard. This was what he’d been waiting for ever since their first meet with Lombardi up in Vegas. Here it was, the other shoe. “Emma, we appreciate your information. If there’s anything we can do for you, just say the word.”
“There is, actually. I need access to a doctor, but I can’t use my real identity. He’ll be looking for me, and while reason dictates that if he had any clue where I was at all, he’d have found me by now, I want to remain vanished. I don’t know what that’ll look like long term, but I do know that right now I need help from a doctor off the books. Do you guys know of anyone?”
“I do,” EZ confirmed, “I’ll give him a call and get back to you on it. He can be discreet for a price.”
She nodded, feeling relieved. “Thank you. One more thing. Can I borrow a prepay, please? Not one you contact Rocco on?”
Bishop rose from his seat, going behind the bar and shuffling around, coming back with an old Samsung flip phone and handing it over. “Thanks again, baby. Don’t worry about him either, we ain’t gonna advertise that you’re here to nobody. You’re safe with us.”
She thanked him, taking the phone and flipping it open. Taking a few moments, wondering how to word her message, she rested her hand to Guero’s thigh as Bishop and EZ walked away, placing the phone in her lap and beginning to chew her thumb...
Marie was cleaning down the counters in the kitchen of her beautiful mansion when her phone dinged, reaching a well-manicured hand across to grab where she’d placed it out of the way in a large, ornate fruit bowl. Opening the message, her eyes widened.
Safe. Pinky swear. Love you all the world, mom xxx
“Oh, Mother Mary!” she sobbed, a hand flying to her mouth as her knees buckled, taking her to the floor as she cried tears of pure relief. Pinky swear, love you all the world. Only one other person knew it was their thing, and that was the little girl she’d raised into the young woman she thought of as her own. And she was safe. At last.
Love you too, Emsy. Will love you forever. Don’t you ever come back. It’s your time to live. I’m so proud of you xxx
Pressing send, she immediately deleted all evidence of the messages, while over two thousand miles away, her daughter by love rather than blood sobbed in the arms of her boyfriend after reading her reply.
Nice bit of smut and fluff to finish off the week, besties! Thanks to you all for reading and engaging, you are absolutely the best ever!
Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine Ten
Words - 4,004
Warnings - 18+ content throughout, Minors DNI. Recounts of kidnap, child trafficking, physical/verbal/sexual abuse.
His fingers skimmed over her shoulder, Emma enjoying the soft, tickly contact, even more so when he added a few kisses.
“This mark,” he began, fingertips tracing the outline. “This isn’t from him too, is it?” He hated to think just what infliction could have caused the dark red mark that ran about six inches down over her shoulder blade.
“Birthmark.” He felt his insides uncoil, Emma continuing. “It’s called a port wine stain. They’re more common on the face, and usually much angrier looking. Mine’s quite pretty, I’ve always thought. Mom always used to say it looked like someone did a whoops with some Merlot over my back.”
He smiled, thinking it was a cute way to describe it. “Cassie mom, or Marie mom?”
“Marie mom.” Her eyes saddened a little, biting her lip. “I know you told me that I shouldn’t, but it still hits me, the feeling of guilt over how I equate Marie to the word mom more than my actual mom. It doesn’t mean I love my birth mom any less, it’s just that...” She trailed off there, her emotions seeming to cloud her articulation of how she felt.
“Marie was the only person you had looking after you for a really long time. Like I said, I guess it’s only natural you see her more as your mom, since you had more time with her than you did with Cassie.” He knew it was something that troubled her deeply, but it was to be expected, he supposed. After all, Marie had been in her life longer than Cassie, tragic as that was.
They’d also shared a bond through deep, unabating trauma. They’d clung to one another in times of anguish, and that couldn’t be discounted as anything Emma should feel guilt over. Her bond with Marie was very, very deep.
Stroking her hair, he continued with his thoughts. “You bonded closely with someone who said in her own words that she wanted to be your mom, there’s no reason to feel guilt for that. Not under the circumstances. Fuck, Emma. You deserved someone, and I think if your mom was still alive, she’d be thankful to Marie for protecting you as much as she could.”
Nodding against the covers bunched beneath her head, she could believe what he’d suggested would be true, if her mom was still alive. “I think I began to see her even more as mom after we learned my parents had both passed, because she was all I had as far as a parental person was concerned. I needed it, to not feel so alone, as I did after I found out they’d died. I always felt this little slice of comfort that even though we were so far apart, we were still under the same sky while we were parted, and then I didn’t even have that any longer.”
What an interesting choice of words. “I used to think the exact same thing after my dad went away. I fucking hated that my mom thought I should just forget about him, all because she wanted to. Like, what the fuck is that? He was my dad, I wasn’t gonna just blink and forget he’d ever fucking been there, y’know?” His jaw tightened a little, Emma sensing the resentment there he held. “I wanted to go visit him, but nope. Not allowed. I guess as an adult I understand it a little better now, mom’s reasoning. She didn’t want me following in his footsteps.” He paused, laughing before gesturing to himself with a sweep of his hand. “And what did I go and fucking do?”
“Ibarra two-point O,” she chuckled, reaching to stroke his chest. “When you said you joined the MC because of your dad, it wasn’t just because of his influence, was it? It was to try and be close to him again, rebuild on what you’d lost while he was away, right?”
“Yeah, exactly.” He looked down, closing his eyes for a few moments. “Wasn’t long enough.”
“What happened to him?” Her question was tentative, Emma sensing from the little she knew that it was a sensitive topic for him, his father’s demise.
He explained it all, the rumbling turmoil within the club, the cavernous split that had led to Diaz shooting his father in the back of the head. Emma’s own experience with a different fraction of the criminal underworld meant that of course, she understood the layers of greed, corruption and deceit that could be harboured by those seemingly meant to be on the same side.
“Thought I’d feel better for taking out Diaz the exact same way he fucking murdered my father, and I did for a while,” he revealed, Emma turning onto her back and pulling him close, Guero resting his head just above her right breast. “I guess loss isn’t that easy, though. He got what he had coming to him, he ain’t here no longer, but neither is dad.”
Her arms tightened around him, moving a hand to weave her fingers into his hair, stroking his scalp with her nails. “I think we both have some ghosts that’ll hang around a while, don’t we?”
He looked up at her, snorting softly. “Baby, I got one. You? A whole fucking morgue full of ‘em. Seriously, how the fuck you’re not completely buried by it all, I don’t fucking know.”
“I think you finding me in the corner again last night is testament to the fact I’m still buried,” she spoke, leaning to kiss his forehead. “I’m learning how to heave the weight off of me a little at a time. That processing which began while I was in the container, finally letting it all wash over me, what had happened, I’m dealing with it all now. Opening that kind of floodgate, mother fucking Mary, it’ll take a long time before all the water stops flowing through.”
“Until it does, you got me right here to help you keep your head above water,” he pledged, lifting his head to kiss the side of her neck. “It doesn’t have to drown you any longer, even though I get that it isn’t gonna go away overnight.”
She smirked, turning onto her side. “Be nice if it could, hmm?” They were both a little heavy with the burden of what haunted them, deciding instead to sink into something much sweeter as they began to share slow, sumptuous kisses. With arms coiling around one another and hands stroking, they explored and adored one another, Guero moving from her side, placing a kiss upon her navel before...
“Mmmm.” Oh, how she would never tire of him going down on her, the sensation of a mouth between her legs completely new to her, since no man before him had ever done it. The tip of his tongue ran in languid licks from her opening to her clit, slow yet firm, seeming to hit her deeper than the soft, pink flesh they bathed.
Each lick seared through her, burning like falling stars raining beneath her skin, the focus of his tongue moving to circle and flicker upon her clit, breathy exclamations driven from her elegant throat as her body arched. The fever of it misted her spine, a glitter of pleasure flashing over her nerves, her cunt streaming against him at he ate her hungrily, the feel of her pooling against his tongue pouring golden through him, his cock twitching with the need to sink into her.
Sitting up, he kissed his way to her mouth, and the taste of herself on his tongue was sweet and sharp, moaning against his lips, feeling him guide himself to her, the hard mass of him running in sweeping glides through her folds. He made her yearn for him, fucking her slit without actually moving to penetrate, her nails sharp at his shoulders as she rolled her hips against the hard heat, moaning into their magmatic kisses.
Each ridge of his cock dragged over the silken wet of her, the push of the very tip smearing precum over her clit as he rubbed himself upon her, drawing an almost wounded cry from her throat as she shuddered. The heat of it roared through her, tingles cascading as she came, the stretch of him breaching her adding to it, his thumb dragging her clit to keep the sparks crackling.
She was breathless in the wake of it, head fuzzy, but not too much that she hadn’t seen what he’d seemingly forgotten.
“Um, Guero?”
He was somehow hoping that she might be too aroused to notice what he’d forgone. “Mmhmm?”
“Forgetting something, aren’t you?” She cast her eyes to the nightstand, raising her eyebrows, starting to laugh as he grumbled.
“Just one time, please? Come on, I fucking hate condoms.”
She shook her head. “No. I’m not even thinking about risking it, no way. Doesn’t matter how much I want a baby, it’s way too soon for us, and I have too much of my own mess to sort out before I add a small person to that.”
“Yeah, but our kid would be so fucking cute,” he jokingly protested, Emma closing her eyes and shaking her head as he began to laugh. “And maybe,” he continued, kisses peppered along her jaw, beginning to move slowly in and out of her, “maybe I just wanna know how it feels to fill you with cum, then watch it dripping out of your perfect little pussy after, too.”
“Dirty talking me into it won’t change my mind.”
Once again, he grumbled in annoyance, Emma widening her eyes. “Retreat! Out!” she giggled, pushing against his forehead with her index finger, laughing more as he moved to snap his teeth at it.
Finally, he pulled back, reaching for the drawer. “Fine.” He pulled one on quickly, steering back into her, heat encompassing him as he sank to the hilt and pulled back, her hips twitching against his. She nuzzled her nose against his, smiling as her fingers ran in trails up his sides, the tattooed flesh erupting in goose pimples.
He was heavy within her, and each rolling thrust fractured little storms beneath her skin, swirling tempests that whirled up her spine, his teeth gently nibbling her lower lip as her mouth hung agape.
“Those pretty moans, baby.” he murmured, his mouth pressing to hers, a slight rotation of his hips evoking more of them, his cock hitting her at the kind of angle that had her thighs quivering. Lifting her legs a little higher, her cunt sucked him in deeper, moans pooling and spilling into their kisses, Emma thinking she’d never seen anything as beautiful as the glinting obsidian of his aroused stare.
His fingers laced with hers, placing her hands back above her head, teeth scraping at the column of her neck as he bore down into her harder. The wet sounds of his cock sliding into her made the little mumbled words of pleasure falling from her lips lost to his ears, the lewd sound spurring him, his thrusts becoming faster as his head fogged with the amazing sensation of her clamping around him.
Her cunt poured around him, Emma feeling the thick vein that ran the length of his cock pulsing against her tender walls, pulling from his grasp, her nails sinking into his shoulders and pulling down to graze over his back. He shuddered atop her, teeth nipping her neck, his groan all smoke and salt as he rucked into her harder.
“Fuck, oh, you feel so good!” she gasped, hands touring the flexing muscles in his back, her hips driving up against his as their mouths locked together again in steamy, smouldering kisses. Little flint strikes glimmered at their point of fusion, Guero moving to kneel before her, pushing her legs back to touch her chest, his thumb dragging in a slick rub against her clit.
It streaked through her, tendrils of pleasure winding tight and creeping up her spine like vines, her cries loudening as he began to pound into her in frenzy. Each hard thrust scraped sparks that glinted down to her very marrow, his cock unrelenting until it broke over her and shone like the neon of a rainbow.
He left her utterly dizzy and fuck drunk, accepting the settling of his body back into her arms, Guero only moving to pull the condom off and knot it, casting it to the floor before lying breathless against her chest once more.
“Mother fucking Mary,” she panted, stroking his clammy back, her senses still tingling. “I really, really love sex. At last.”
He looked up at her, his smile soft. “Glad I could be the one to show you it’s meant to be different to what you knew.”
Beaming at him, she stroked his face, kissing him with clear affection. He adjusted his position, lying next to her, a thigh slotted between hers, Emma stroking his chest. “I always wondered if I’d be too damaged to enjoy it, having sex with somebody if I ever managed to get free. I knew that what he put me through wasn’t right, and that no matter how it made me feel, that it wasn’t my fault. I think that’s why – except for that one moment yesterday – I've been fine so far.
“The way I look at it, I didn’t lose my virginity to him either, because I didn’t have sex with him. Sex is consensual, and what he did to me wasn’t. In my mind, it was you I lost it to, the first man who was inside me because I wanted him to be there.”
His eyes softened as he looked down at her with a little disbelief, shaking his head as he hid his face for a second. “Stop it, that’s too fucking adorable.” He emerged after a few moments, kissing her, stroking her cheek with his thumb. “I’ll take that, though. I will.”
In the grand scheme of her recovery, enjoying a sex life that was normal and healthy might’ve been small, but he was glad he could play a part in it. A very active one, it seemed. One that contained certain requests he wasn’t expecting to hear.
“Are you fucking serious?”
His barked response of surprise made her snort laugh. “Yeah. I’ve always wondered what it’d be like.”
His eyes continued to round. “I ain’t trying to discourage you, but really? With this fucking huge thing?”
“Yes. Is that going to be a problem?”
He shook his head rapidly. “Not gonna be a problem for me at all, but for real, you sure? I mean, some girls in the past have seen it and chickened out of even letting me all up in their pussy, but really, you wanna try anal?”
She turned over, straddling his hips, leaning to run her tongue in a circle around his nipple. “It sounds like you’re trying to talk me out of it. I get it, you have a really big dick, but you’re capable of being gentle, right?”
“I am.”
“And do you have lube?”
He thought for a moment, knowing he had bought it in the past for that very purpose. “I think so.”
Leaning back, she reached for the nightstand drawer, rooting around, making an ‘aha!’ face as she produced the bottle, wiggling it in her grasp. “Well, look at that? You do. Looks like my anal cherry is getting popped, doesn’t it?”
Leaning to him, her kisses were all smoky heat, his arms wrapping around her. He turned her onto her back, enjoying the stroke of her nails at the back of his neck before slipping from her grasp, burying his mouth between her legs. He began laying slow, firm, flat licks over her clit, his hands stroking paths of heat across her thighs, smiling against her folds as he watched her begin to gently writhe.
Grasping her butt, he squeezed the cheeks firmly, holding her spread, his tongue trailing down to run over her puckered muscle a few times, her arousal skyrocketing when he brought his thumb to her clit at the same time. Pleasure prickled over her skin like hail, her hands grasping her tits as she pinched her nipples, crying out as his tongue circled faster.
“Yeah, mamacita likes having that pretty little butthole licked, huh?”
She chuckled, squeaking when he turned his head to bite the round of her ass cheek. “Apparently so.”
Her pleasure flushed strongly, her gasps filling the air like the tinkle of sweet music, Guero grasping her hips and turning her as he laid on his back with her above him. Wetting his fingers in the sodden warmth of her cunt, he slowly slid one, then two up her ass, lips locking around her clit and beginning to suck.
Her mouth dropped open, the wail of abandon so loud she scarcely believed it came from her throat, pleasurable tingles raining down on her, heat sizzling to her bones. He smiled against her soaking folds, sucking on her clit gently, evoking more of those beautiful noises from her, his fingers breaching her deep.
Releasing the suck on her bud, he gently circled it with his tongue, a grunt of lust gravelling his throat. “That feel good, blue eyes?”
“Oh, my fucking god, yes, it is!”
The feeling of his fingers scissoring her while his tongue rolled, warm and relentless at her clit, had her completely set adrift from herself, moaning virtually incoherently, shimmers of anticipation roving through her body as her lean muscles twitched and corded. Her reactions indicated to him strongly that she was ready for him.
He moved out from beneath her, Emma catching his lips in a kiss of fiery eroticism as she smeared lube onto her hand and grasped his cock, working his shaft until it was rigid and slippery while he groaned at her neck before manoeuvring himself behind her.
With a gentle push, he breached her, sliding in carefully before stilling. She whimpered softly, needing a second to adjust, and he gave that to her, his heart thundering in his chest. It’d been a long time since he’d been with a woman brave enough to take him anally, and it was almost too arousing for him, being hugged in such soaking, tight constriction.
He felt her relax a fraction, inching in a little further, the moan that poured from her causing his cock to throb, her nails dragging the sheets as her back moved in a serpentine response, her skin prickled with goose pimples. All of that from one slow, steady thrust. For Emma, the stretch was painful, hissing a little as he tried to move forward again, feeling him still immediately. As soon as the pain subsided, though...
“That alright so far, baby?” It didn’t hurt to check, even though she looked to be very much enjoying it.
That definitely confirmed it, Guero more than just a little surprised. He’d never seen a woman act quite so aroused from anal before, usually the initial response was that of extreme pain, but for her, it was anything but.
It was the kind of exquisite tightness that made his heart continue rapidly hammering in his chest, like a caged bird attempting freedom, his cock throbbing as he gripped her waist, moaning a deep, barbarous rumble. The narrow, slick heat of her consumed him as he began to quicken, still holding back a little for the sake of not wanting to hurt her.
“Harder, fuck! Please!” she cried out, her words negating his consideration for her and giving him the go ahead to begin driving into her with more force. She made the kind of noise he’d expect from a wild animal in heat, a sound that did not cease the further uncontained her was with her, his fingers leaving pink crescents at her waist, the other hand reaching forward to grip her shoulder.
For her, it was absolute heaven, being anally nailed by the most beautiful, big cock she’d ever felt, her fingers clutching the pillows, one hand slipping between her legs so she could rub her clit in time with each deeply delivered thrust into her. God, he was too good.
She felt foggy as he dragged her insides at speed, groaning incessantly, little whispers of the word fuck flittering over his lips as he felt himself twitching, adding to her pleasure in the most incandescent of manners by reaching to penetrate her bereft walls with two fingers, those slick muscles gripping him with a grateful squeeze.
He needed to do everything he could to drive her to the same undoing as his own body raced towards, not wanting to arrive without her, needing to feel the gratification of her milking his orgasm from him, twitching around him until he unloaded within her.
He chased it like a predator running down its kill, unhinged efforts and verbal grits tipping them both into the absolute divine as he shot stream after stream of silky, warm release inside her.
“Fuck,” he panted, folding at the waist, resting his head to her back as he slowly pulled out, moving to sit on his heels and watch his load begin to trickle out over her slit. He might’ve been sex drunk and a little tired, but the sight made his insides pulse with desire. “Fuck, that was so hot.”
Turning over, she shuffled near, running her tongue up his chest. “Wasn’t it, though? My butt kind of hurts a little now.” He snorted with laughter, not surprised, Emma moving her mouth to his nipple, biting down softly as her hands stroked swirls over his arms. “Worth it, though. I’m going for a shower; I need to cool the hell down. Don’t leave me waiting.”
She left him absolutely fizzing, Guero flopping down on his front, chuckling dirtily to himself. “Damn, she’s amazing.” Seeing her sexual confidence grow as rapidly as it had was thrilling enough in itself to him, how comfortable she was with him. The fact that she’d let him do something he really enjoyed but seldom got to partake in, that she had thrived upon just as much, well, he lay there a little mindless for it until realising he had a naked woman in a hot shower waiting for him.
Rinsing the conditioner from her hair, she smiled as a very gorgeous man stepped into the bathtub with her, his arms sliding around her waist as he nuzzled the side of her neck, Emma stroking the thick planes of muscle that stretched across his upper back. Closing her eyes, she enjoyed the warmth of the water and the tightness of his embrace, his fingers slipping down to grasp her butt as he kissed her from her throat to her shoulder.
Suddenly, a flash of her showers back at the mansion entered her head, scrubbing herself raw, repulsed at having Rocco’s body on top of hers, smelling him upon her skin. Burying her face against Guero’s neck, she brought herself around, his scent yanking her from the memory, reminding her where she was. Long gone, was where she was.
“Thank you,” she whispered, kissing the tattoo upon the side of his neck.
“What for? Getting this beautiful ass all soapy?” he chuckled, sudsy fingers working in swirls over her flesh.
She laughed softly through her nose, moving her head to face him. “For everything. You’ve been so good to me, taken care of me, given me a home, security, everything I haven’t truly known for a really long time. You’re the best.”
He smiled in acknowledgement, kissing her forehead, the water cascading down over them as their mouths pressed together, kisses of adoration offered as their arms tightened around one another. While her body thrived upon the touch of the man that held it, she knew it’d take much longer for her head to stop returning her to the past.
At least now, though, she had what she’d so desperately craved; a future.
So yes, just in case you missed it, it's double update day! Make sure you read chapter nine before delving into the smut fest below :D
Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight Nine
Words - 3,200
Warnings - 18+ content throughout, Minors DNI. Recounts of kidnap, child trafficking, physical/verbal/sexual abuse.
She wasn’t used to it.
Being viewed as anything more than a vessel, something to take from and fill, rather than something to cherish, to lavish affection upon, with steamy kisses full of syrupy longing and hands that wandered in eager exploration. She wasn’t used to it.
Finally, though, beneath the tattooed outlaw who had proven he was different to the men of her past, she had it.
Emma had often wondered, should she be able to accomplish the impossible and escape her old life, whether she would be too traumatised to enjoy sex in the way it was supposed to happen. Trauma was the last thing she felt as her hands slipped over the bulk of his muscles, humming softly into kisses that gained heat, made her dizzy, his body so different to what she was familiar with.
This was how it was supposed to be.
His breaths hit her face sharply as he panted through his nose, finally moving the sumptuous crush of his full lips to her neck, the tip of his tongue flicking over her pulse point making her insides throb with want. A gasp fluttered from her lips as his mouth descended to close over her nipple, sucking until it furled against his tongue, his eyes fixing upon hers as he let the pebbled peak slip from between his lips.
“You’re so goddamned pretty. Damn, I’m so lucky.”
His words made her soar, stroking the sides of his face, Guero turning his head to kiss her palm before his lips toured the soft flesh of her sternum, hands gliding over her sides. His kisses eventually followed the path of his fingers, and it made anger lick at his insides to feel her tense a little, shame coiling within her to have what she hated about her body inspected so closely.
All he wanted to do was take it from her, show her that her beauty was not compromised by the flaws her former life had left upon her. To his eyes, every inch of her was gorgeous. He wished he could make her forget that any other man before him had mistreated her, and with each kiss scattered, lowering further, he felt her relax more, hoping he was leading her away from memories that caused her anguish. His pulse quickened with anticipation, hands stroking her thighs, pushing her until she spread, his tongue fluttering over the neat strip of pubic hair left remaining before lowering further.
At that first touch, a swipe laved through her folds, Emma virtually whimpered, feeling his tongue flatten and drag her again, her hands sinking into his hair and tugging gently. She trembled against each keenly delivered lick, her back arching, her body urging him to press closer. He read her need faultlessly.
“Fuck, ahh!” That firmer contact of wet heat pressed firmly upon her clit sent sparks skittering through her, a warm flush reaching her cheeks as she gasped and cried out softly. She could feel him smile against her, and she wanted to call him out for his smugness, but he had every right to be so. The tip of his tongue traced a series of circles down to her gently fluttering hole, Emma hissing a breath as he pushed within, the honey of her cunt bathing his mouth.
He grunted against her, hands flexing at her thighs as he felt her streaming against his mouth, licking slowly across the length of her again, plump lips wrapping her clit in a warm, sumptuous hug. The pleasure poured over her, like the gild from the sunlight she no longer gave a damn about coming in from the blind he must’ve returned to pull open. It cast her peachy skin in the soft of morning light, Guero’s lust blown eyes fixed on her like she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever witnessed.
She was.
The bourbon-dark of his pupils was only concealed by enviably long eyelashes closing, lips still sucking at her, a little more pressure, the tip of his tongue rolling over her bud adding to the shocks that roared up her spine. Pleasure pooled golden in her very marrow, her hips shaking against his face, thighs closing around his head as she panted hard, feeling the heat begin to swirl and snap.
All she knew of orgasms were those administered by her own hands, the familiar tingles creeping over her nerves as her thighs clenched and with a series of soft cries, she finally knew what it was to be given one by another.
“Holy hell, that was too good,” she panted, her head rolling back on the bed.
“Yeah,” he smirked, kissing her inner thigh. “I’m pretty damned good with my tongue. Even better with my dick, though.”
Her pretty lips curled into a full smile, sitting up to push him to his feet, moving across the bunch of bedsheets to seat herself before him. “Mm. I think I want to know more.”
He looked down at her with a wink, his abs juddering softly when her tongue swiped at the line of hair leading to his navel. “Not gonna stop you.”
Grasping his sweats, she pulled them down his thighs, feeling her heart skip several beats at what sprang from within. She’d noticed the way he seemed to fill out the crotch in jeans and sweats pretty well, but still, she wasn’t expecting that.
“Oh my god, that isn’t even a dick,” she gasped, placing a kiss upon his hip as she curled her hand around him. “That’s a third leg, Guero!”
His laugh filled the room. “Ain’t nothing you can’t handle, mamas.”
She bit her lip, her smile spreading. “Didn’t say I couldn’t.”
Anything he might have followed that with was swallowed back, suppressed by the depth of his moan at feeling her tongue circle the head of his hardness. She began working him in light tease, his rigidity thickening rapidly in her grasp as she gently squeezed his shaft, finally slipping him into the wet hug of her mouth.
Her throat protested a little, Emma fighting against her gag reflex to take as much as she could, her hand working in a slippery grip over all she couldn’t, tightening her lips around the thick of his cock and sucking gently as she dragged her lips back to the head once more. His groan arrowed right to her cunt, feeling herself tingle, wondering with a mix of anticipation and a little slither of nerves just what it would feel like to be breached by something with such length and girth.
Most guys had one or the other. Some neither. He very much had both.
Was this perhaps the universe rewarding the fact that every sexual experience before him had been so utterly atrocious for her, sending her into the arms of a tattooed, Latino Andonis with model-like good looks and a big, fat dick? She certainly thought so.
Her mouth slid easily up and down, wetting his cock thoroughly as she moaned around him, evoking groans to pour over his lips, his thumbs stroking her cheeks as he watched himself vanishing into her mouth. Fuck, she was good. A little added speed had the coil within him twisting like a pulled knot, lightning beginning to flicker at the base of his spine, his eyes closing tightly.
“Baby, not that it isn’t fucking amazing, ‘cuz it is, but I wanna be inside you when I blow my load,” he grumbled after a few moments, pulling back, his hand haphazardly reaching to yank the nightstand drawer open and pull a condom out, ripping the wrapper open with his teeth.
“How’d you want me?” she purred, lifting her legs high and wide with an arched eyebrow. “Is that to your liking?”
He didn’t know what was sexier, the action itself, or the newly found confidence that had prompted it. “A hundred percent, that’s to my liking.” Taking her legs, he rested them against his chest, turning to kiss the side of her ankle as he steered against her opening, sinking in slowly, a dirty laugh rumbling his throat as he watched her mouth drop open. “Yeah, how’s that big dick feel, blue eyes?”
“Ohhh!”
His smile widened. “Pretty good, huh?”
Pretty good? She felt like her g spot was about to explode with stars. “Ohhhhh!”
With his ego stroked just as nicely as his cock against her walls, he leaned to her, offering kisses steeped in sinful heat, a few more inches slid in until he filled her. He knew what he had needed time to get accustomed to, should the woman he was with not be used to it, so he began in slow trawl, kissing each little cry from her lips before sitting back on his heels.
Watching her enjoy him had his pulse soaring, gliding back and forth from the soaking clasp of her cunt steadily, hands stroking scorching paths of heat across her legs. It wound slow like a summer tempest, the pleasure biting like the first chill of autumn as he speared a little deeper, Emma wailing, her nails dragging down his chest. Her hand slipped to feel where he had her split wide, his cock so hard and wet within her, sparks crackling beneath her skin from each fluid thrust.
She’d never felt herself so wet before, the fat drag of him scraping her tender walls sending pleasure puddling down her spine, little pricks of ecstasy dancing over her very bones as he began to add speed. The sensations sharpened, her mewls filling the air as her muscles tensed, walls fluttering on him. He felt incredible within her, the power of his fuck quickly becoming unrelenting, her cries spurring him on as he arrowed her harder.
Sparks scraped over her nerves as he pushed his thumb to her slick clit, stroking back and forth, the lewd, wet smack of his body rutting hers only adding to his arousal, leaning to her, mouth claiming hers hungrily as he groaned against her tongue.
“Oh fuck, like that, just like that, ohhh!” she cried, her nails imbedding into his shoulders as he pounded her into the bed, mouth leaving a scorching path of rabid bites and licks across her neck and chest, sitting back up again, looking down upon her with nothing but smouldering adoration.
She felt like he was going to go through her as they reached frenzy, muscles tightening, hands clenching on one another, his so far fairly quiet groans amping up as he fought past the tight clasp of her walls around him, Emma feeling herself shatter like antique glass as the angle of his cock and press of his thumb sent her into nirvana. She felt his cock twitching within her as he came, his teeth closing in a hard bite against her ankle, his body wracked in shivers as he collapsed on top of her.
“Gimme fifteen minutes and I’m doing that all over again,” he panted against her neck, Emma’s eyes widening.
“Fifteen?”
He kissed her nose, pulling out and removing the condom, knotting and throwing it into the wastepaper basket. For once, it wasn’t full to the brim. “Yeah. I gotta damned good refresh rate.”
She supposed he did at his age, only being twenty-nine.
He lay back down beside her, Emma turning onto her side, moving her leg to rest on his hip as he slid his arms around her. “You gotta fucking nerve.”
She panicked internally for a second, frowning in confusion. “I do?”
“Yeah,” he confirmed, “for being so fucking gorgeous. Your pussy is pretty dope, too.”
A pretty dope pussy; that was definitely the first time anyone had referred to it as such. It tickled her, giggling against his mouth as they kissed. “So eloquent.”
He grinned against her lips. “Shakespeare ain’t got nothing on my poetic charm!”
More laughter. More kisses. “You are charming, in your own special way.”
“I’m a loud mouthed, acquired taste.”
“And if people don’t like it, they should acquire some taste, right?”
“Don’t give a damn about people. Just you.” he grinned, his hands roaming all over her, making a happy noise of contentment as his tongue rolled softly against hers.
It was all brand new, everything fresh, sparkly, her insides feeling as if she had moonbeams bursting forth. He was the only man ever to make her heart flutter, making her feel wanted, and not just for what he could take from her. He might’ve told her he had a refresh rate of fifteen minutes, but in the end they lay there talking, Guero sharing with her perhaps one of his most embarrassing memories.
“Alright, so we know for obvious reasons your first time is the worse of the two, no arguments there. We’re gonna skip right on over that, save you getting upset and your man here wanting to go punch a hole in the wall,” he began, “but mine is bad. Man, it’s so, so bad.”
His cringing had her laughing, his cheeks even colouring a little as he remembered it, hiding into the pillow, his dirty chuckle sounding muffled from within. “Her mom walked in on us, and I got chased out of there. I had to run seven blocks home naked as the day I was born. It sucked. Then I got home, and my mom obviously wanted to know why the fuck I had no clothes on, so I had to tell her.
“I got smacked around the head with a broom and yelled at so badly. “Every one of our neighbours are gonna have seen your bare ass strolling down the street, you fucking embarrassment!” I tried to tell her I ran like hell, but she didn’t believe me.”
She laughed hard, imagining it. “Why do I get the impression if that happened in the here and now, I don’t know, say if you were banging somebody’s wife and got chased out, you’d just stroll casually?”
Ahh, was she psychic, he wondered? “That’s happened. I at least got my clothes on, but yeah, I didn’t stroll. You don’t stroll from a guy with a shotgun who just blew a hole in the wall about a foot away from you.”
“Jesus fucking Christ!” she exclaimed, slapping him softly on the chest. “You’re so bad!”
That was somewhat of an understatement. He did have somewhat of a penchant for women he probably shouldn’t have gone after. “Yeah, I have been.” His hand began to wander, stalling at her hip, circling, an unmistakable want pooling in his eyes. “So, that fifteen minutes...”
“Mmm,” she hummed, turning him onto his back and straddling his hips. “It’s been a little longer than that, and I distinctly remember something about a promise of me being shown all morning.” She leaned to kiss him, his hands cupping her breasts, thumbs skimming her nipples as their tongues softly rolled together, Emma gasping as she felt one of those talented hands slip to explore her apex.
The soft skim of his fingers beginning to circle her clit prompted a silky purr to fill the space, the sound sinking hot beneath his skin, his mouth curling as he smiled into their kisses. He’d never tire of drawing those noises from her. The way he stroked her was perfect, instigating the sparks that would soon roar into a bonfire of bliss, her mouth moving to his neck, her tongue tracing over the tattoo upon it as her hips rocked against his hand.
He warmed her right to her veins, sharp waves of pleasure throbbing through her, her hand joining his for a moment, wetting her palm before rapping her hand around his cock. The grasp made him twitch within her grip, his fingers slipping through the satin of her folds, pushing into her. Their kisses blazed with syrupy heat, her teeth crushing in a soft bite upon his lower lip, little cries pouring from her as his fingers rotated and nudged firmly.
Pleasure splintered through her, his thumb moving to drag sparks over her clit making her wail, her body cock hungry, needing him, her heart thundering rapidly. Reaching to the drawer for a condom, she managed to pull it out and roll it over his cock with impressive speed, sitting up and sinking down onto him with a shuddered breath.
He felt heavy and fever-hot within her, her inner muscles gently contracting around him as she leaned to kiss his chest, her tongue circling his nipples while his fingers ran in sensuous patter down her spine.
“Mmm, you look so hot, riding the hell outta me.” he moaned. And god, did she look it. She was more than just hot; she was simply radiant. The sunlight that spilled into the room glowed around her, her blonde waves framing her face, gold glints sparkling, her eyes... fuck, her eyes. They killed him, so beautifully blue, staring at him unflinchingly as she moved her hips in a way that had him completely mesmerised. He hadn’t been fucked that well in a while.
The sound of their panting and moaning filled the space, a soft orchestra of sin, Emma moving faster upon him, feeling his cock hit spots so deep, it was as if she had entire constellations streaking through her. An almost broken cry left her mouth when she felt him move his thumb to her clit, rubbing firmly, biting her lip as she closed her eyes, her head tipped back as a flush of ecstasy ran through her like a river.
Opening her eyes, her entire body jolted and stiffened as she gasped in shock, the moment intruded upon when for a split second, it was Rocco she was looking down upon.
“Woah, what’s up?” he asked, concern creasing his features. “I didn’t scratch you, did I?” he then continued, examining his thumbnail.
“No, no you didn’t.” Covering her face with her hands, she took a deep breath, emerging with a pained sigh. “I saw him and not you for a moment, and it just... I... fuck! Why can’t it all just fucking go away now I’m free of it, of him?”
Sitting up beneath her, he tightened his arms around her, kissing her chest. “Might take a little longer than two weeks, baby. Just know I’m here, though. You got me and I’m not going anywhere, alright?” He stoked her, kissing her cheek a few times as she nodded, moving his mouth to hers. “It’s okay, Em. It’s all okay.”
She swallowed hard, resting her forehead to his as her hands cupped his face, feeling herself calming down. Beginning to rock against him once more, she lost herself to him, his kisses, his arms. Truly, it wasn’t all okay, the dark recess of her mind that held her trauma of the past caged away from her consciousness swirling for release, but in that moment at least, it abated.
The same couldn’t be said when fifteen hours later, Guero awoke to find her curled up in the corner of the bedroom. Thankfully, he’d had the foresight to hide his weapons, but still, armed or not, it was a problem. One they both knew she needed to take the steps to overcome.
So then, my beautiful, wonderful audience. Those who are not new around these parts know that sometimes, treats are given in the form of a double update day with my stories, and guess what? Today is one of those days! I know you've all been waiting patiently for the sexual side of Emma and Guero's blossoming relationship to finally flower, so I thought I'd share it today in the next chapter! Has that made you smile? I hope it has! :)
Previous chapters - One Two Three Four Five Six Seven Eight
Words - 3,434
Warnings - 18+ content throughout, Minors DNI. Recounts of kidnap, child trafficking, physical/verbal/sexual abuse.
The more she revealed, it seemed, the more comfortable she became with sharing memories of her nineteen years held prisoner. Guero lay there and let her recount it all, being exactly what she needed, somebody to simply listen.
“Marie taught me how to shoot.” He had wondered at how well she seemed to handle the Beretta she’d pointed at his head, her handling of the firearm steely and confident. “There were guns kept all over the house, so there’d always be one within easy reach, just in case. With whom Rocco was, he was a target, or rather his family were. He routinely pissed off other mob families, so of course anyone he cared for became a target, a weak point.
“She wanted me to be able to protect myself from such a threat, but mostly, if Rocco himself ever became so unhinged that I felt my life was in danger. “Shoot him dead, and we’ll figure it out somehow afterward”, is what she used to tell me. How we would have figured that out beyond running for our lives, I don’t know. His guys would have hunted us down.”
She paused for a moment, tears beginning to swim within her eyes. “I hate myself, for leaving her. Joey, Alessia and Mikey, too. I loved them so much, they were like my siblings for Christ’s sake! It’s a guilt that’ll never leave me, that I ran and they’re all still stuck there! She became my mother, and I abandoned her!”
“Hey, no,” he began, touching his fingers under her chin, gently lifting her head. “You don’t have to feel guilty about a thing. I get that you miss her, she made the hell he put you through bearable where she could, but Marie chose that life, Emma. Nobody forced her.
“She knew who she was marrying, and I’m not saying that in the end she had an easy choice to get away from him, ‘cuz I can see from what you told me he’d have killed her for it, but you found a way out. You took your chance, and you got free. If she loves you as much as it seems she does, then she’ll be fucking happy as hell the girl she counted as one of her own got free of him.”
She absorbed his words, realising that no matter how unpleasant it felt, what he’d said was the plain, simple truth. If she didn’t assume her to be dead via Rocco’s hand, Marie would be quietly rejoicing her escape. “Is it wrong that I feel more of a maternal bond with her than I do my actual mom? I feel guilty for that, too. When I hear the word mom, I think of Marie, not Cassie.”
He shifted slightly beneath her, Emma moving a little as he turned onto his side, resting his head on his arm. “It might sound cold, but it’s fact. Marie was in your life longer than your birth mom. I kinda guess it’s only natural you’d think that. Doesn’t mean you love Cassie any less, or that you can’t reconnect with her now you’re free.”
“But, but,” she began, her throat swelling on a rising lump, “that’s the thing, there is no Cassie. When I was twenty-five, we sat and looked on the internet, I begged her to look up my family. I just wanted to know if they were okay. Mom died back in two thousand and thirteen from breast cancer. My dad, he passed away six years ago, motorbike accident. All I have left is Dylan, who is still in Spokane. My grandparents, too, unless anything happened in the interim.
“I’ll never see my mom and dad again, and I loathe him, I detest him completely that he robbed me of those years with them, that they both died not knowing what had happened to me! As if me being taken wasn’t bad enough. It left Dylan all alone, no immediate family, and it’s all because of him!”
She fell apart at that point, naturally so, sobbing against his chest as Guero held her. Again, he had no idea what to say to that, knowing it would take a man greater with words than he was to offer verbal comfort. Instead, he was just there, not knowing that truly that was all she needed from him, just someone to be there. It wasn’t about words. Listening was enough, as he continued to do, Emma sharing more with him about her life within the gilded cage prison that was the Lombardi mansion.
“He used to virtually pimp me out to his friends too at parties.” Once again, Guero felt his anger flare like a firecracker, grinding his teeth as his jaw tightened. “I always wanted to enjoy sex, but none of them ever made it feel good for me, all too consumed by their own pleasure to give a damn about mine. As long as they got to lie between the legs of a pretty, young blonde, that was good enough.
“There was only one of them who was different. His underboss, Vincent Calabrese never laid a hand on me. I was offered to him, and for appearances in front of Rocco and the others he always accepted, but once we got into the bedroom, he just sat down beside me on the bed and we talked. He said he wasn’t in the habit of defiling little girls, but even when I was over the age of consent, he still wouldn’t.
“He staunchly disagreed with what was being done, the child trafficking. ‘It’s an affront to god, snatching children from their families’ is what he always used to say. He always opposed it, and Rocco knew that, but ultimately went along with what was being done for the sake of a quiet life, and I guess not ending up with a bullet between his eyes either. This leads me to something that you guys should all know, EZ especially.
“You’re running heroin for him now, but all that will change if Rocco has his way, and believe me, he will. You guys are in his pocket now, which means in his mind, he owns you. You’re all to do with as he pleases, and what he pleases is to start bringing children across the border. Undocumented migrants are much easier to move, and get away with moving, too. I overheard him talking about it, it was always a two birds with one stone deal for him. He’d get you used to the money first, and then tell you that your consignment would begin to include kids as well.”
Guero pushed himself up, his eyes rounding as he looked down at her. “For real, that motherfucker wants us in on trafficking kids?”
His horror at the very suggestion was telling over the person he was. Although still a criminal, he was a man with the kind of morals that had been few and far between in the world she had escaped from. “Eventually, yeah.”
“And if we refuse?” He didn’t need to ask, really. He could guess.
She made a gun motion against the side of her head, couple with a soft exclamation of ‘pow’. “He’d wipe you all out and move onto the next nearest charter, using your eradication as an example of what happens when people push back against him.”
The weight of the mafia. That was a war they definitely wouldn’t win, and he knew that for sure. Rocco Lombardi could crush them all, very easily, too. “I have to take that to EZ. Not now, of course, but at some point over the weekend, call a templo. Will you be okay to come and tell us what you know?”
She smiled, reaching to stroke his hair. “Of course, I will.”
They remained quiet for a time after, Emma needing the silence. Her legs remained in tangle with his as she reached for the tequila bottle, taking a long glug, the alcohol burning her throat. She felt a little drunk and numb, which was what she had needed in order to sit there and offload it all to another person. “There’s more I could tell you about my life, but right now, I feel drained. Like I need air, too. Can you give me a minute?”
“Yeah, take as long as you need.” He reached to stroke her face, Emma turning her head and kissing his palm, getting up and letting herself out of the front of the house. The cool air hit her, soothing to her frayed nerves, the residual effects of her revelation hanging onto her, though.
“Hey, boo.” Of course, Tyrone would notice her out there, always keeping the watch. She walked over to his window, her shoulders heavy, watching him emerge from behind the swathe of curtain fabric. “Damn, you look all sad and shit. Fuckboy bin’ actin’ up?”
She shook her head. “No, no he’s great. Listen, I know you deal, so I figure I’m in the right place. Can you sell me a joint? That’s all I want, just one.”
He looked entertained at the naivety of her question, that it was the norm for dealers to exchange such a small amount. Tyrone, for all of this mouth and uncouthness was kind, though. “I ain’t selling you shit, white girl. This is on me, hold on.”
She smiled. “Thank you, you’re great.”
He beamed, reaching to grab his rolling tray, locating one of his pre-rolled joints. “Ain’t I, though? I know fuckboy rarely smokes it, so just remember I gotchu if you ever need a lil’ hit.” The truth was, neither did she. She’d occasionally partook of it back in her old life, secretly taking from Rocco’s personal stash which he smoked to ease his chronic migraines. It helped her feel more relaxed in the utter brutal chaos of her life. It smelled and tasted awful, but she enjoyed the calming buzz.
Tyrone passed a joint and a lighter through the window. “Enjoy, boo.” She smiled, leaning in and kissing his cheek. “Aw, lawdy! I gotta kiss from a pretty girl, hell yeah!”
She laughed softly, shaking her head and lighting up, moving to sit on the front step of Guero’s side of the house, taking a long drag. God, that was some nice weed. She coughed a few times, the usual, barky rasp associated with smoking weed, her throat tickling.
“Yo!” She turned to see a large arm thrust through the window, a can of soda proffered forth. “If you don’t like mango then I can’t help you. Oh, hold up. I might have a Fanta somewhere.”
Walking back over, she took the can. “Thanks, Tyrone. You keep your Fanta, mango and I are good.” She moved back to the step, opening the soda and sipping it, the tickle clearing nicely before she took another little puff, looking out across the street into the darkness. The only sounds audible were that of the game Tyrone was playing, and the chirp of cicadas. It was somewhat relaxing in ambience.
The weed had an instant calming effect upon her, all of the brutality that would endlessly echo through her memories placated and pushed back again, back behind the fortress walls in her mind. She’d had to keep it there for years to have even had a chance of remaining sane through her ordeal. God, she couldn’t believe that she’d actually escaped it, found somebody who she could trust, someone who for all intents and purposes was slowly becoming all hers, too.
“As if you’re out here getting high on my front step. Not even I do that.” Turning, she saw Guero emerge from the house, moving to sit behind her, his legs flanking her body as he stretched.
“Well, that’s because you don’t smoke weed,” she chirped, watching him frown before plucking the joint from her.
He took a few puffs, handing it back, holding in a cough until the tickle passed. “I do, but not often. It has too much of an effect on me, and I can never get the balance right.”
“The balance between what?”
“Between a nice buzz and ragingly horny.”
“Ahh.” She nodded, looking entertained, the stoned giggled welling up within her. “I somehow don’t think you need any extra boosting in that department.”
He moved her hair, kissing the side of her neck. “A hundred percent correct, mamacita. And since I guess you’re probably drunker now than you were earlier, I’m not risking that balance any further, so you finish it. Kinda figure you need the sedation after everything you told me.”
“Oh, you’re not wrong there,” she spoke, eyes widening a little as she leaned back against him. “Even if I was sober, sharing all of that has kinda dampened my desire.”
He snorted softly, arms tightening around her. “Understandable. S’okay, I can wait.”
“Can you?” she giggled, the sound joining the noise of the cicadas.
“Mm.” he hummed, kissing her neck again. “Just.”
Just then, the curtains next door began moving, Tyrone’s boom sounding. “Goddamnit, will you two go back in that house and bust some furniture already? Shit!” They both snort laughed, Guero resting his forehead to her shoulder, Tyrone continuing. “You better sort yo’ damned mess, fuckboy! Because I am one pretty smile away from makin’ that fine assed lil’ honey mine, you hear?”
“Yeah, I hear,” he called through his laughter, “and I see, too. Plying her with weed and soda.”
“I know what the ladies like! If she’s still out here in a half hour, she gets the first slice of my pizza, too!”
“Exactly, you gotta give me a head start against your half ton of raw charm, dog,” he chuckled, Tyrone emerging further from the curtains.
“Hey, I might be a big fella, but I’m no fuckin’ half ton! I’m thick and juicy, drives the chicks wild!”
“Tyrone, you ain’t thick, my man. Your ass is so fat, if I swerved my bike to miss you, I’d run outta gas.” There was a pause, a squawking laugh emanating from the window, Emma thinking it hilarious a man with such a low, rumbling voice had a laugh so high in pitch. All banter with their hilarious neighbour aside, they remained outside until she had finished the joint, heading back in and returning to bed.
“Do you feel better for telling me everything?”
Resting her head against his chest, she nodded, her nails tracing the outline of one of the spiderweb tattoos that spread out across each of his shoulders. “I do, you know. Whether the nightmares will stop because of it, I don’t know. I think I might need further help to recover from it all. Kinda scared about registering with a doctor, though, putting my name back out there. He’ll be looking for me, and if he finds any record of a twenty-nine-year-old woman named Emma Louise Taylor anywhere, he’ll come for me.”
Her muscles stiffened at just the thought, Guero turning to wrap both arms around her, feeling her relax into his embrace after a few moments. “We’ll work something out.” She fell asleep in his arms, those early morning hours passing dreamlessly, neither waking until 10am the following morning.
Rising from her place curled against him, Emma rubbed her eyes, looking down at the chiselled tattoo canvas that had been her pillow. Her safe person, the kind of man she’d dreamed would one day save her from her fate, and there he was... snoring like a brontosaurus. She couldn’t help but giggle softly, thinking that was a part perhaps not strictly included in the romanticism of her fantasies.
He cracked an eye open, his grin widening. “What are you laughing at?”
“Isn’t it obvious? The noise! You snore like something hell spat up for being too loud.”
“I wasn’t snoring,” he began stretching, the other eye opening eventually. “I was doing mindful breathing.”
Immediately, she cracked up, leaning to place a kiss against his stubbly jaw. “There’s nothing mindful about those sawn logs.”
She had a point, he guessed, Guero turning onto his side and wrapping his arms around her. “Yeah, but I’m cute. I get away with it, don’t I?”
“Yeah,” she agreed, turning her head back to kiss him, “you do have that going for you.”
“And a whole lot more.”
Biting the corner of her lip, she shifted against him, a little wiggle that stirred him exactly where she intended him to be stirred. “Feel like showing me?”
“Mm.” His arms tightened around her, kisses scattered against the side of her neck. “I need coffee and a shower, then trust me, I’ll spend all morning showing you.”
Now that was a statement definitely on a par with her fantasies. He left the bed first, taking a shower, calling to her that he’d left in on for her as he made his way through to the kitchen. It was while she was under the warm water looking down at herself that a stab of panic prickled against her guts.
He’d see her naked. All of her.
While she had body confidence in her shape, the littering of scars that marked her sides and lower back made her feel ugly. Some had faded to white, but there were still a few dark pink markings that remained. All were raised scar tissue, triangular shapes of knife points pressed into her skin, the burning brand of a hot blade searing Rocco’s displeasure branded onto her skin forever.
As she dried off, her eyes found them again, wondering if they’d really be all too noticeable if the blinds remained drawn in the bedroom.
“Of course, they will," she muttered, beginning to sniff. All she wanted was to move on from it all, enjoy the basic human right of a consensual sexual relationship with another adult, someone of her actual choosing, yet the literal scars of the past held her back.
A soft tap sounded upon the partly open door. “Em, you want a coffee?”
Em. No one had ever called her that before. She liked it. “No, thank you.”
“You alright.”
“Yeah.”
Her pinched voice alluded to the contrary. “No, you’re not. Can I come in?”
“Yeah.” Tightening the large, white bath towel around herself again, she wiped her eyes on the back of her hand, trying to compose her upset.
“So, people who are alright stand here crying, huh?” Him and his smart mouth. He was right in his light sarcasm, though. “What’s wrong, baby?”
Baby. He'd called her that back when he’d first found her. How different the intent behind the word was now. “The scars I have,” she began, gulping, hoping she could swallow down the lump she had painfully swelling in her throat. “You’ll see them, and they’re hideous. They make me ugly. You’ll think they look ugly.”
He frowned, lifting her chin with a gentle touch of his fingers as he began shaking his head. “I’ve never liked people making my mind up for me. That includes you, mamas.” His hands pressed softly on her shoulders, resting his forehead against hers. “I’ve got no problem with whatever scars you have, and I’m not gonna think you’re ugly because of ‘em. Only thing that is, is that low opinion you have of yourself. If you want, leave a t shirt on. I don’t mind. I’d prefer you naked, but whatever makes you comfortable, I’m good with.”
She could fetch a t shirt, or she could just be brave and let him see her. All of her. She’d bared her soul to him already, after all. Indecision made her heart quicken, the soft stroke of his fingertips at her upper arms soothing as she reached for the towel and untucked it, letting it fall. Fighting the urge to cover herself with her arms, she looked anywhere but him as he took in her nudity, her body tensing when he moved his hands to stroke the scars she detested so much with careful attention.
Leaning close, he kissed the side of her head, his lips soft against her ear. “They aren’t who you are, and you’re not any less beautiful. They’re only the map of the journey that finally led you to me.”
Her throat tightened with emotion, his words so beautiful, she wanted to cry. The desire in his eyes as she finally looked at him dictated it might be poorly timed, though. This was not a time for lament and sadness. No. This was the time to plant her lips upon his and let him carry her to the bedroom.
You stand before Bishop as he sits on the edge of the couch, clad in a yellow sundress that hugs your curves and flutters around your thighs. His hands chase up the back of them, fingertips ghost along the line of your panties before he grasps that pretty little peach and pulls you closer. He bundles the material in his fist, gripping it tightly and hiking it up above your thighs so he can see those white cotton panties with that little damp spot forming at the front.
“Wet for me already.” He murmurs with approval, the heat of his breath ghosting across the moist fabric. “Am I the only one that does this to you? Gets you wet without laying a finger on you.”
“Yes Obispo.” You say, a sinful smile pulling at your features.
You know what it does to him, hearing you say his real name in that tone. It’s rare that it rolls off anyone’s lips but from yours it sounds like a god damn sonnet. He pushes his face up against your panties, breathing in the scent of your arousal.
“Say it again.” He mumbles against your clit, his lips brushing over that sensitive nub and sending a rush of pleasure erupting through your synapses. “Say my name again.”
“Obispo…” You whisper as your fingers comb through his curls, gripping them in between your fingers. “Fuck Obi, it’s just you. You’re the only one that can get me wet like this.”
Those beautiful brown eyes of his meet yours. There’s a tempest in him, he’s wild, a force of nature and he’s going down on you, his hands gripping your ass so he can keep your pussy firmly in place against his mouth.
His molten tongue traces over the shape of your clit, sucking just slightly and your knees almost buckle from the sensation. You feel can feel him smiling against the fabric when you exhale.
“That’s what I thought Mi Cielito,” he murmurs, his lips framing the words over that sensitive little bud. “There’s just me and only me right?”
“Fuck Obispo,” You drawl, your head tipping back at the sensation of his mouth on your clit. This man is going to wreck you, he’s going to take you apart until you’re in his sheets crying out his name, because that’s he wants. You. Always and only you.
“I need to hear you say it.”
It’s a concession that isn’t easy for him to make. There’s a hint of vulnerability amidst his boldness. This is Bishop giving you a part of himself, letting you catch a glimpse of the man underneath all the leather and hard edges. His wants, his needs, his fears, his doubts.
“There’s only ever you Obispo.” You tell him. “Only you in my bed and in my heart.”
It’s only when he hears those words that he takes you to pieces. Your panties are torn from your form and his mouth is on you. His tongue sweeps over your wet lips before he thrusts it deep inside. You cry out and it emboldens him, his rough palms tighten on your ass holding you in place against his greedy mouth. You writhe against him, taking everything, he can give and he watches you the whole time, those ferocious eyes of his drinking in your pleasure as he tears it from you. You come with his tongue deep inside you and his finger-marks on your tender flesh.
“You taste so fucking good Mi Cielito,” he tells you, using his palm to wipe the mess from his beard. “Like fucking honey in my mouth.”
There’s a moment of reprieve, a second to draw breath before he unbuttons his jeans and shoves them down his hips. His cock springs to attention, thick and leaking before he grasps the fabric of the sundress in both of his fists and pulls you into his lap.
You place your hands on his shoulders, fingers digging into the leather of his kutte as you give him that wicked little grin of yours. The sundress fans around your hips, draping across his muscular thighs as you take him slowly, adjusting to his girth. His head tips back, the exhale of breath emitting from his chest as you tease.
“Fuck.” He utters, his hips thrusting up closing the gap. His name rolls of your lips once more, that pretty flush creeping up your cheeks. “So, fucking tight, the perfect fucking fit.”
His hands trace over the contours of your shape as you move slowly, rocking back and forth on his dick. His fingers seek out the straps of your dress, drawing them down the slope of your shoulders so that your breasts spill out of the fabric. His arm wraps around your waist, drawing your chest flush against him. His rough palm encloses on your breast, guiding your nipple into his molten mouth. He sucks on that deviant little bud, tongue lapping over it.
It drives you fucking crazy.
He loves you like this. Untamed, and uninhibited, the only thing you give a shit about is getting off on his cock as he fucks you all the way to nirvana. He bites down hard on your nipple and you’re done. Something inside your shatters and you clench around his dick so impossibly hard that it drags him over the edge with you. He fucks you through your orgasm, spilling his release into you as you cradle his head to your chest.
“Christ.” He mutters, his lips brushing over the love bite he’s left upon your sensitive flesh. “I don’t know what the fuck it is about you and sundresses.”
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