Romance: New Adult: One Game at a Time - A College Football Romance (Bad Boy Romance) (Sports Contemporary Short Stories) (25 page)

“Put them inside me,” she begged, taking her mouth from my cock long enough to speak, and then she was sucking me again, going
further,
this time, moving her hand as her lips slid down my shaft and the bulbous head of my cock pressed against the back of her throat.

I did as she asked, sliding those two fingers rubbing her into her tight snatch. We lay like that for a while, as I fucked her furiously with my fingers and she bobbed up and down on her cock, her mouth warm and wet, her tongue working overtime. She cupped my balls with one hand, squeezing them softly and gently and pulling on them.

She stopped so suddenly I thought I had done something wrong, but she was moving quickly, throwing one leg over my head and chest and climbing atop me that way, so her sweet snatch was inches from my lips. “Make me come,” she moaned back to me, before swallowing my cock once more. I obliged, lifting my head and tasting her pussy. Her juices were warm and flowing, and I probed the depths of her pussy with my tongue, reaching up to rub her engorged clit with the pad of my index finger.

It didn’t take long with my tongue and lips on her to make her come. She took my cock out of her mouth, using a tight grip to jerk me furiously as she yelled and rocked
backwards
, grinding her pussy into my face. I felt her body spasm atop me, and she screamed in pleasure again, pressing her open mouth on my thigh to muffle the sound. Her pussy was wet before, but as she came it was soaking, her juices flowing down across my lips and cheeks and chin.

When she
was done,
she rolled off me slowly, and I didn’t need to
be told
what to do. I moved as quickly as she had before, positioning myself between the beautiful woman’s spread legs. She reached down and guided me into her, and then we were fucking, fast, hot and passionate. I bent, and our lips met. When I broke the kiss I moved my head lower, taking her nipples into my
mouth,
in turn, my fingers rolling whatever one I wasn’t sucking on until it was its turn.

The bed was shaking with each thrust, and her arms went around me, her hands on my back, her long cherry red nails digging into my skin there.

“I’m going to come,” I said, confident that she wasn’t taking birth control, and she replied in kind.

“Not in me,” she said, and though I felt a flash of disappointment, I pulled out and she shifted quickly, sliding down and sideways to take me into her mouth once more. I put my hand to the back of her neck and helped her find a quick pace, her lips flying up and down my shaft.

I grunted as I came, her only warning to the fact that my cock jumped in her mouth and
spurted
warm sticky come down her throat. She slowed her pace and sucked softly on the tip of my cock as I came, swallowing every last drop. When I was finally spent she lay down
completely
, smiling up
to
me, my dick still hard, shining with her pussy juices and spit in the
low
light, throbbing right above her face. She giggled and arched up and planted a kiss on the underside of my cock.

I fell onto the bed beside
her
and climbed over me long enough to pull the blanket from the floor, and situated it over us. She lay curled up beside me, naked as I was, one of my arms tucked under her. We fell asleep.

3

The next morning we got moving quickly. We drove a half hour with her dressed in the same dress she had on the night before, but we stopped at one of
those big department stores
and bought her a few outfits. She took me into the changing room with her, and tried on each outfit, teasing me when she undressed. She came to me in her bra and panties near the end, kissed me, and then dropped to her knees and blew me. Once again she sucked me dry and swallowed it all.

Driving in the car with her, heading further away from the city, further away from Brighton Beach, life somehow began to feel normal. This woman, she seemed to love me, as crazy as it sounded. I had to keep reminding myself that she had
been trained
for that. She had
been beaten
probably
and brainwashed to love whatever man bought her. I was sure she knew I wanted to help her, and maybe that made her love me even more. But driving, listening to the radio, having her grab my hand and hold onto it, it felt real, it felt like a better life than I should know.

I had girlfriends, a lot of plastic bimbos
drew
to the money and danger. I was a real bad boy, and it attracted some
very pretty
girls. Beautiful even. But shallow, and fake. I had never married anyone, never come close. Just chicks I fucked, in and out of my bed, their beds, across the back of my couch.

Chloe was different. Somehow. I almost forgot what I had done the night before. Buying her. Mr. Black was
pissed; I
knew it. He would want me dead. Driving with Chloe, I finally made up my mind. I would kill him first. And anyone else who stood in the way of me making sure Chloe was
happy
and getting her back home.

We stopped in a town called Barley. It was four hours upstate from New York City. Small and charming, we were there just after lunch time. We stopped first at a small
diner
, both of us starving. We sat in a booth and ate hamburgers and fries, and sucked down milkshakes.

There was a motel and a nicer hotel there, but we learned of cabins in some woods not far from the main
road
and drove there instead. I paid with cash of
course
and used a fake name. We went
into
the cabin
together,
and didn’t leave for three days, save a trip on the first day to a small grocery store down the road.

We didn’t
leave
the bed much, day and night
blending together
in orgasmic bliss. Finally, as the Sun fell on the third day at the cabin, I showered and came out to tell Chloe I was leaving. I had expected us to
be found
by then, but I had been careful not to leave a trail, and I had done pretty well.

“You’re going?” Chloe asked me before I could even speak. She was lying in bed, naked, the bedsheet covering her lower half, her magnificent breasts.

“How did you know?” I asked her.

“I can see it in your eyes. In the
way,
you stand.”

“If I don’t go,
there are men who will
never leave you alone. Never. They’ll never let you get home.”

The young woman nodded, and then she smiled sadly. She looked at me, and in the evening light that came streaming through the bedrooms windows, I could see tears filling her eyes.

“There’s something I haven’t told you,” she said.

“What?” I asked.

“I’m married,” she said, and my heart sank. “Back in Greece. I’m married. Less than a year before I
was taken
. We were on our honeymoon, we had to go late because of his job, we finally went. A cruise. We stopped
…
and I was taken, and… brought here… for this.”

I nodded. “I can get you back to your husband. But I’m going to have to do this. I have to make sure these men, the men who brought you here, I have to make sure they can’t find you. Or us.”

She nodded. She looked as though she had more to say, and I was sure I did too, but neither of us spoke. I filled a backpack I had bought at the local grocery store with the guns I had brought from my
apartment
and ammo. I took a bit of money, and then I faced her once more.

“I’ll be back in a couple of days,” I said. “Don’t answer the door.”

She stood, letting the sheet fall away, coming to me nude. She wrapped her arms around
me,
and we kissed. “Be safe,” she said, and I nodded. “Come back to me.” I nodded again, and then it was time to leave.

I drove through the night back to the city. Mr. Black was first on my list. I knew where he would
be; he
owned a strip club in Brighton Beach, and he spent most nights there. I parked a block
away
and took
time
to prepare myself. I slid a handgun into the back of my
waistband
and pulled the
backpack on
. I had two larger guns in there, a
shotgun
fully loaded with extra
shells,
and a submachine gun with three extra clips. I climbed out of my car and took a deep breath.

A fat bouncer named Reuben was working the door. He
worked for
the club, but not for Mr. Black, in the sense that he wasn’t a criminal, even if I was sure he was aware of what sort of man the guy who owned the club was. If he knew I was in trouble with my old boss, he didn’t show it.

“Peter, what’s up?” The fat man asked.

“Hey Reuben,” I
said
and shook his hand as I
stepped by
.

“Boss man is upstairs if you need him,” he said, and I nodded.

The inside of the club was pounding music and pink and blue lights. A skinny brunette with giant tits was dancing on the main stage, a ring of horny men sitting around it, flashing green bills as she came near. I passed by the bar, where Samantha, a good looking blonde who tended gave me a smile and a wave. I managed to smile back.

Near the back of the
club,
there was a set of metal stairs, which led up to a
second-floor
office. I started up the steps and reached for the door handle. Just before I could open the door, someone pulled it open from the other side, and I found myself face to face with Vlad. His eyes widened in shock. Time seemed to slow down.

“You idiot,” the man said to me. He had a gun on the inside of his jacket, I could see the handle sticking out a bit, but he didn’t go for it.

“Get out of here,” I
said
a stern warning. I liked Vlad, and he was just
a low
life grunt, like me. Or at least, like I used to be. Then, standing on those stairs, I felt different. I wasn’t the man I had been just a week before. But my beef wasn’t with Vlad. He wasn’t the one in charge. I didn’t want to kill him, not if I didn’t have to.

“He’s going to kill
you,
kid,” Vlad said to me, shaking his head. He looked at
me,
and I could see
concern
in his eyes.

“I’m going to kill him,” I snarled. “Now get out. Don’t come back tonight.”

Vlad seemed to weigh his choices mentally.
Finally,
he nodded and pressed his hand on my shoulder as he passed. I let out the breath I hadn’t been aware that I was holding, and opened the door.

Mr. Black’s office was large and
open
, with some couches and chairs at one end, and his desk at the far end. I had my gun out of my pants before I had stepped all the way through the door. One man stood beside the door. A grunt, like me, but I knew he wouldn’t hesitate to kill me, so I beat him to the punch. I pressed the barrel of my handgun to his side and pulled the trigger. The bang was deafening, and the man fell. The music was so loud downstairs that I was sure no one in the club had heard anything.

Mr. Black was at his desk, his cell phone to his ear. He looked across the
room,
and his eyes widened. Another man sat on a couch nearby, reading a magazine, an automatic rifle lying across his lap. He tossed the magazine aside and went to swing the
rifle
towards me, but I aimed and fired, and my bullet took him in the
head,
and he slumped to the side, dead.

“This is not wise,” Mr. Black said as I stalked near him, my handgun trained
at
his head.

“Keep your hands up,” I said. I knew he had a shotgun in
a special
slot constructed on the bottom side of his desk. He held his hands up.

“So you fell for a woman. No harm, no foul. Bring her
back; I
can make it right.”

I shook my head. “You can’t make that right. It isn’t right. I respected you.
I thought you were better.”

Mr. Black laughed. “You knew
exactly
what I was. You are a fool if you think I wouldn’t do anything I could to make a bit more money.”

“Was it worth it?”

“Worthy what?”

“You’re life.”

“Come now boy,” Mr. Black laughed. “We both know you won’t kill me.”

“I want to know who set it up? Who got you into it?”

Mr. Black shook his head.

“I won’t tell you a thing,” he said. I was standing next to him then, and I put my gun against his leg. “Idle threats,” he said. I pulled the trigger.

He yelled out, reaching down and covering the ragged hole I had just blown into his thigh.

“Tell me,” I said.

“David Ramos,” Mr. Black said. I knew the name. I put my gun to my old boss’
head
and ended his wretched life.

I went back out to my car, quickly. There was a chance no one would find Mr. Black or his two dead stooges until the end of the
night
when someone would
go see
why he hadn’t come out yet. That was if Vlad didn’t attempt to return sooner. I climbed behind the wheel and started the engine.

I knew David Ramos. He lived in New
York
and had his fingers in every illicit thing you
could
think
of, up and down the East coast. He was a big man, muscular and strong with a thick neck and biceps as big as my thigh. I didn’t care. I was going to kill him.

I had to do some digging to find
him,
though. I hit up some old friends, guys in the business but who worked for other bosses. I
found out
I was on everyone’s lips. Mr. Black had put it out to find me and kill me. Ramos was backing him up. Ramos was the man in charge of the slavery ring, and he was embarrassed in front of the other bosses. He wanted me dead as much as Mr. Black had.

It took some doing, but as the Sun was rising, I had him. I had tracked him down to a
high-rise
building in the center of times square. It would be
tough; I
knew that much. Ramos would have ten men, twenty even, protecting him. My boss had been big time, but Ramos made him look ridiculous. I got into an elevator on the ground floor, and headed for the penthouse apartment, at the very tip of the building. It was a long ride, and I got prepared for what I was about to do. There was a chance I wasn’t going to make it. I would fail. There was a chance, but I felt good about my odds. I had rage and anger on my side. I had Chloe. The elevator stopped, the doors slid open with a ding, and I thought of her as I lifted my shotgun up.