Flame (6 page)

Chapter
8

Sofia

Oh my God, what have I done?

Is this
real?

Did Colton
Stark just fuck me in the locker room?

My aching
tunnel is a steady throb of proof as the water from the shower flows down over me.

I’m reminded
again as I walk back into the locker room as I dry off. With each step, I swear
I can still feel him inside me.

That
massive cock.

Oh my
God, I couldn’t believe how big it was.

I kept
looking down while he reamed me, stunned at the sight of that beast pounding into
me.

How did
I survive that, seriously?

Although
I have to admit, I loved every moment of it. When I woke up this morning, I never
suspected I’d get the fucking of my life before dinner.

And
I do mean The. Fucking. Of. My. Life.

I’ve
had guys. I’ve had girls.

But that...
huh... that... holy fuck!

That
was unique.

Get a grip, Sofia!

I slam
my hand into the same locker he pushed me up against.

Damn
it, nothing has changed, Sofia! He’s still a criminal you’re investigating! You
still need to plant the firefly in his car!

Fuck!

What
is wrong with me?

They got a thing for criminals. They like bad boys.
All of them.

Again
my father’s voice thunders through my head, echoing in a deep chamber.

Fuck.

I’m such a fucking failure!

I slam
my hand into the locker again.

Then
I put my clothes on.

Clothes
on, I close the locker door, sling my bag over my shoulder, take a deep and
determined breath, and walk back out into the gym.

He’s
right there, waiting for me by the ring, his gym bag next to him. Casual. Arms folded.
Leaning comfortably like he owns the place.

He turns
slowly and looks at me with that goddamned smirk. And those goddamned blue eyes.

Zing!

Grrrrrrrrrrrr
... no!

I fold
my arms, pausing in front of him. He continues to stare at me.

“What?”
I say, a little too much irritation in my voice.

“I
can’t believe how much I want to just look at you all day.”

The magnetic
field is back, particles of energy encircling us. A zone of charged electricity
created by our proximity to each other.

God,
I’m hopeless.

“That
was... wrong,” I say.

“Yes.
Which is why it was so right.”

“Hope
Britney didn’t hear us.”

“I sent
her home before I went in there.”

“Sent?”

He picks
up his bag and starts toward the door. “Yeah, I own the place.”

Zing!

I walk
behind him, a new (and somewhat painful) throb starting up in my damaged pussy.

“Next
class isn’t till six so I have to lock up,” he says. “You parked close?”

“No.
In fact, could you give me a lift to my car?”

He turns
and looks at me with a quizzical smirk.

What the fuck?

“Sure,”
he says while putting on his sunglasses. “Can you step outside while I set the security
code?”

I just
nod and walk out onto 14th Street. The wind has died down but it’s still cool. Thank
God, because I’m sweating again. I open up my bag and take out a bottle of spring
water, guzzling it down.

He steps
outside and the door locks behind him. He’s holding his phone to his left ear, talking
to somebody.

“Eduardo,”
he says. “Don’t worry about it. I’ll cover it. I’ll do a transfer when I get home.
Tell Carmelita she’ll be fine. I’ll take care of it. Okay? Okay.”

He clicks
off and puts the phone in his pocket, throwing that evil smirk at me again.

Zing!

I watch
him walk, my lips on my spring water bottle.

I didn’t
get that cock in my mouth. I’m kind of disappointed.

That
would have been fun.

But it isn’t going to happen! I’m not going to let
it happen again!

As he
walks, his crisp, white shirt highlights those broad shoulders. I can still
feel my fingernails digging into that back.

God,
I swear I can still feel him fucking me.

That
man.

Just
fucked me.

My eyes
fall to his ass. His tailored chinos highlight its sturdy jut as he walks. I didn’t
get a good look at it naked, even though I got a rock solid handful while he reamed
me.

He turns,
almost at the corner. “You coming?” he says.

Almost.

I walk
toward him.

His Bentley
is right there on the side street.

He walks
to the passenger door, opens it, and motions me in.

I walk
around him and sling my bag onto the floor. At the same time I slip the firefly
from my pocket to the palm of my hand.

I’m about
to get in when he grabs me by the waist and pulls me into him.

He kisses
me hard.

Zing!

I melt
into his chest, protruding through his open collar. Begging me to lick it.

In a
rush of explosive energy, I’m wet again. His hands travel down to my ass, squeezing
and lifting my cheeks. His tongue presses into my throat.

At the
same time, his hand moves under my waistband and cups my pussy over my panties.

“No,”
I say, trying to push him away.

He stops
kissing me and leans back an inch, trapping my eyes with his.

God, there’s no point to resisting, is there?

“One
more taste,” he says as his fingers dive over the band of my panties and jam themselves
into me.

He takes
them out and sticks them in his mouth, sucking my juice off them.

My knees
tremble, causing my legs to jiggle.

He
smirks again, then slaps my ass.

“Get
in.”

I get
in.

As I
do, I sink my hand underneath the seat, looking for something on which to clip
the firefly.

As
he gets in, he shoots that quizzical smirk at me again.

I fucking love that.

“Where
are you parked?” he says.

I
tell him and in two minutes we’re there. On the way, I manage to clip the
firefly onto a strip of metal under the seat.

“Over
there,” I say. “The
Chevelle
.”

“That’s
your car? The yellow 1970
Chevelle
with black racing
stripes?”

“Restored
it myself.”

“Must
attract a lot of attention with that, not that you wouldn’t attract a lot of attention
just by walking out the door.”

Zing!

I take
a sip from my water bottle. “Yeah, I hate that part. I just like the car and I had
six weeks vacation a couple of years ago with nothing to do.”

He
leans closer to me. “So you bought a 1970
Chevelle
and restored it?”

“Yeah.”

Closer.
“Yellow.”

“Yeah.”

Closer.
“With racing stripes. In six weeks.”

“Yeah.”

He
kisses me. “That’s the fucking hottest picture, you covered in grease with a wrench
in your hand. If I walked into a garage and saw that, you know what I’d do?”

The electrical
particles ping me all over, sending a new wave of intense heat down into my crotch.

“No,
what would you do?” My voice sounds distant and gravelly.

He leans
into me and whispers into my ear, the smell of soapy pine filling my nostrils.

“I’d
slam the hood shut, pick you up, throw you on it, and fuck the living shit out of
you on top of that car.”

I lose
control of my breathing as he licks my neck. Again, I’m a diffuse blob of dribbling
jelly.

He bites
my ear and then sits back in the driver’s seat, eyes forward like nothing happened.

“Dinner,”
he says. “My place. Tonight.”

Whoa,
what. Where am I? Oh yeah.

“Um,”
I say, trying to think. I remember my dad. “No, I can’t tonight.”

“Okay,
tomorrow night then.”

“Yes.”
Then I remember I said I’d keep Mike company tomorrow night. “No.”

“Wednesday,
then. I’ll keep going.”

“Wednesday.”
Think, Sofia! “Wednesday. Yes, Wednesday is good.”

“Fine.
Dinner. Wednesday. My place. I’d tell you my address but I’m pretty sure you have
it in a file somewhere, officer.”

He kisses
me again.

I
grab my bag and get out of the car. I look back at him and smile. I mean, I actually
smile. A real one. I think I actually mean it.

“Wednesday,”
I say.

“Wednesday,”
he says as he smirks up at me from behind those sunglasses.

I slam
the door shut and he drives away.

At the
door to my car, I have my key out. It’s ready to be put in the lock. All I have
to do is put it in and turn the key.

But I
just stand there.

Still
intoxicated by his scent. His presence. The taste of his mouth.

I sway
a little, picturing that cock mercilessly attacking my insides.

God, that was good!

Then
reality hits me again. I remember my name, my assignment, my task.

I open
my car door, sling my bag inside, and get in.

I bang
my forehead against the steering wheel.

“What
the fuck?!” I scream out loud.

Then
I start the engine.

Chapter
9

Colton

“Heat is on fire tonight, Colton!”
says a well-known movie star as he pats me on the back.

I
look around. So it is. I hadn’t noticed. Lots of girls. Hot ones. Funny, I
walked right past them and didn’t even see them.

All I
can think of is my dick slamming into the tight walls of that amazing pussy.

That
amazing pussy on that amazing girl with the thick lips, the big brown eyes, the
flowing black hair.

And that
look.

That
goddamned look that pierces my armor and sends me flying into space.

“Colton,
can you hear me?” says the movie star. “Earth to Colton Stark.”

“Sorry,”
I say. “I’ve got some stuff on my mind.”

“No
shit, man. I was just telling my girls here that Heat is
da
place. We’re having a great time. Let’s dance!”

He
sticks a cigar in his mouth and grabs three of the girls who bounce up with
him. He tries to dance. For a white guy, he’s... well, a white guy.

But he
makes ten million a picture, so nobody cares. A virtual army of girls descends when
they see him on the dance floor.

This
used to irk me. My ego would be bruised by all the attention some of my celebrity
guests would receive from the girls.

Past
couple of years it hasn’t bothered me so much because I’ve seen so many of them
fuck up their lives beyond repair.

But tonight
I’m thankful. Nothing seems to matter to me except for those eyes.

Those
amazing eyes.

Not to
mention that tight pussy that I’ve already fucked.

And that
ass I have yet to fuck.

God,
a cop!

A fucking
cop!

Really, Colton? Really?

Yeah,
really.

But then
reality hits me. She’s investigating me. And the sick part is, I’m guilty.

Guilty
of being the hand puppet of a sick fuck of an old man.

That’s
why I’m here tonight. I didn’t even want to come out, but there’s somebody I
need to speak to about my Jasper van
der
Voort
problem.

I drift
up to the VIP area, looking for my target. He’s usually here on Monday nights. Actually,
he’s here most nights.

I find
him at a table surrounded by girls in tight Forever 21 dresses. I walk up.

“My man,
Colton, where
is
your drink?” says
Cyrus Moon.

Cyrus
Moon is short, bald, and fat. Probably the oldest guy here at fifty. But he throws
more cash around than anyone I know.

The girls
surrounding him are the most stunning in the club. I can’t help but notice.

“Colton
Stark, my man!” he says. “This is
Jacinda
, Maria, and
Rosa.”

Rosa
catches my eye with her smile. Big brown eyes surrounded by dark lashes.

Hmm.

“Hello
ladies,” I say. “Cyrus, may I speak with you in private for a moment?”

“Anything
for you, my brother.” He gets up.

“Drinks
on the house, ladies.”

They
squeal as I give
Ziv
the free drink signal.

I walk
to my private VIP area, currently roped off. I undo the rope, allow Cyrus to go
ahead of me, and replace it. I sit on the couch in the corner, facing away from
the crowd. I motion for Cyrus to sit next to me, which he does.

“What
up, homes?” he says.

“Cyrus,
is Max
Zanik
still working?”

Cyrus’s
eyes go wide. “Oh shit, man.
Ain’t
never good when nobody
asks about Max
Zanik
. That’s messed up. Why you want
to know?”

“Nothing.
Just curious. He still in town?”

Cyrus
holds my eyes for a beat. “Yeah, he still in town.”

“I
want to meet with him.”

Cyrus
pauses again. “No way. No fucking way.”

“Why
not?”

“‘
Cuz
if you
gots
trouble that
needs Max
Zanik
, you in some serious shit, my man.”

“I may
be in some serious shit, Cyrus.”

“Fuck,
man.”

“Can
you set up a meet?”

Cyrus
looks at me long and hard. “
Aight
. But think twice,
man. It better be your life on the line if you call Max
Zanik
.”

“It may
be.”

I
get up, open the rope, and wave the girls over. Normally I have a couple of Dos
Lunases
in me already but tonight I get a
mojito
.

Cyrus
and I chill with the girls for a while. Eventually, the one named Rosa finds
her way snuggled up to me.
Jacinda
talks to Cyrus
while pressing her butt up against me on the other side. I could probably have
both of them together tonight.

“So what
do you do, Rosa?” I say.

“I’m
a hairdresser, like, you know. But like, you know, I also want more out of life,
like, you know.”

“Please
do tell,” I say as I wonder how Sofia’s eye is.

“Well,
I, like, you know, I don’t know, I want to make a, like, you know, a difference,
like, you know.”

“What
kind of difference?”

“Like,
you know, something meaningful, like, you know. Something that, like you know, makes
people go ‘Oh God, wow. Now that’s something.’”

“Like,
you know,” I finish for her.

“Huh?”
Her head is tilted with a
googly
smile while twirling
her hair.

I turn
to
Jacinda
. “And what about you,
Jacinda
?”

“No
sé
,”
she
says and sips her drink, giggling and twirling her hair. Her eyes say
fuck me
.

I get
a flash of the tribal tramp stamp right above that perfect ass pressed up against
the blue steel lockers. I can still taste the musky, sweaty scent of raw girl cop
ass as my tongue probed her.

“Excuse
me, ladies,” I say.

The
shocked expression on Rosa and
Jacinda’s
faces as I
leave are nearly heartbreaking.

But
I know they’ll get over it in five minutes or less.

I sneak
out, get in my Bentley, and start up toward the Venetian to head home, but
decide against it. Instead, I turn onto 14th Street. I drift down past
Tony’s
Gym, now closed.

I smile
to myself, feeling the sweet walls of that tight cunt as I stretched its walls with
my fingers, my tongue buried in her mouth.

Fuck,
my cock is hard.

I open
the windows and let the night breeze in.

The air
is fresh. I love Miami. I’m going to miss it.

My cell
phone rings.

Shit,
it’s The Beacon.

Fuck
my life.

“Yep,”
I say.

“Be careful,”
says the electronic voice. “Make sure you know what you’re doing.”

“What
does that mean?”

But that
was it. He or she clicked off.