The Gun Runner (Mafia Made) (17 page)

Chapter Thirty-One

Terra

I was excited for our little get-together. Cap was dressed in dark wash jeans, a black button-down shirt, and dress boots. He looked more than different, he looked
good
. Michael was dressed similarly, and I had on my little black dress.

All we were missing was Michelle.

Cap was pacing the floor of the kitchen. “I’m as nervous as a whore in church.”

“Don’t be,” Michael said. “It’s just a girl. We’re just going to hang out and have a few drinks.”

“Maybe we’ll watch a movie on Netflix or something. Just relax,” I said.

Cap stopped pacing and glared at me. “Netflix and chill for me means another episode of
New Girl
and an ice-cold beer. I ain’t used to this shit.”

I grinned. “Just be yourself. And you look nice.”

“When’s she gonna get here?” he asked.

“I said seven, and it’s past seven, so any minute.”

“And this chick’s cool, right? I mean I can just act like me?”

“She’s really cool. You’ll see. After we get a few drinks in her, she’ll loosen up.”

“So we gotta get her drunk to enjoy her company?”

I laughed. “No. But she’ll open up after she has a few drinks.”

Michael walked through the living room and nervously adjusted everything from the pictures on the wall to the plants I had purchased and carefully placed throughout the room.

The doorbell rang.

“I’ll get it,” I said.

I opened the door. Michelle was dressed in jeans, heels and a sheer black button-down with an extremely low neck. Her rather large boobs were bubbling out of the top of her partially exposed bra.

“You look like a hooker,” I whispered.

She grinned and hugged me. “A really sexy hooker. Oh my God. Is that him?” she whispered.

“Black shirt. Yeah.”

“Quit cock blocking me.” She chuckled, pushing me to the side. “Move.”

By the time I closed the front door and walked into the kitchen, she had introduced herself to Michael and Cap, and Cap was pouring her a glass of wine. Michael and Michelle stood on one side of the kitchen island, which was also a bar, and Cap stood on the other. I walked to Cap’s side and picked up my wine.

Michelle reached for her glass. “So, you used to be a marine?”

“I did. Ten years of getting shot at was enough, so I got out.”

“What do you do now?”

“Security advisor. I train people in the use of weapons, and tactics. Boring stuff. You?”

Michelle took a sip of wine and leaned forward, pressing the bottom of her boobs onto the countertop, and forcing the tops out of her bra. “I’m a trust-fund baby, just like Terra.”

I glanced at Michael. I couldn’t tell if he caught it.

Fuck.
Fuck.
Fuck.

I glared at her, trying to get her to see me without Michael doing so. Her eyes were glued to Cap. Eventually, I gave up.

I
fucking swear.
Michelle
,
if you fuck this up...

“Trust-fund baby, huh?” Cap nodded toward Michelle and raised his beer bottle. “Ain’t nothin’ wrong with that.”

Stand up.
Your tits are falling out
,
and you look like a slut.

I cleared my throat. Twice. Michael exchanged glances between Cap and me. I was sweating bullets, and wondered if Michael could tell. I tossed my head toward the living room. “Should we go sit down?”

“I’m fine right here,” Michelle said. “Unless everyone else wants to.”

“You ever seen
New Girl
?” Cap asked.

“Oh my God,” Michelle gasped. “Best. Show. Ever.”

“Isn’t that the fuckin’ truth. Just finished season three. Schmidt is the funniest fucker I ever seen.”

Michelle chuckled and finally stood up straight. The neck of her see-through blouse hung well below the top of her bra. I fought against the urge to walk around the bar and adjust it.

“They’re all funny,” she said with a laugh. “That’s the best show. I swear. I love it.”

“What’s your favorite episode?” Cap asked.

In the middle of a drink, Michelle lowered her wineglass. “The one when Winston and Schmidt went to buy crack. What about you?”

“The one where they all talked about losin’ their virginity.”

“I laughed so hard,” Michelle said. “Schmidt is such an idiot.”

Tempted for a moment to go into the living room with Michael and leave them in the kitchen talking about
New Girl
, I decided to drink my wine and enjoy their conversation instead. The evening was more about them than it was about us, anyway. I just hoped she didn’t make any more mistakes.

We stood at the bar for some time, talking and laughing, and for the first time since Michael and I had been together, I felt completely normal about our relationship. My lack of exposure to any and everyone I knew while in Michael’s presence acted as a constant reminder that my family and friends were unaware of how happy I was, and how much I simply adored Michael.

Sharing time with Cap and Michelle made me feel like my relationship wasn’t such a secret, and I liked how I was beginning to feel. My mind soon faded away from the conversation and to my father.

I tried desperately to convince myself he would find a way to accept Michael. I eventually decided that if Michelle was in a relationship with Cap, and I was in one with Michael, that it would be much easier to tell my father. He and Michelle’s father could discuss their concerns with each other, find a way to accept what we had done, and life would continue without anyone being killed, me included.

I glanced at my watch.

It was almost eight o’clock.

“So how tall are you?” Michelle asked.

“Six-three,” Cap responded.

She straightened her posture and thrust her chest forward. “I’m five-three.”

Cap took a drink of his beer and grinned. “Perfect size.”

Michelle’s eyes went wide. “For what?”

Oh Lord.

“For anything. Pickin’ up. Tossin’ around. You know.”

I glared at Michael and quickly shifted my eyes to Cap. “Tossing around?”

“Yeah,” he said with a nod. “Durin’ sex.”

Well
,
that didn’t take long.

“Do you really think you could pick me up? Like up off the floor?” Michelle asked.

Oh Lord.
Really?

“Know I could. Hell, I bench-press two-hundred-sixty pounds forty-five times three days a week. I don’t think pickin’ you up will be a problem.”

She pushed her wine to the side and walked around the end of the bar. “Do it.”

Michael glanced at me, shook his head, and shrugged. He didn’t seem to be concerned about the earlier trust-fund comment, and I convinced myself he didn’t catch it. He hadn’t said two words all night, but with Cap and Michelle ogling each other and talking a hundred miles an hour, it was tough to even get a single word in on their conversation.

Cap slipped his hands into Michelle’s armpits, picked her up until her head almost hit the ceiling, and lowered her to the floor.

Holy crap.

“So what about the tossing around stuff?” Michelle chuckled. “Tell me about that.”

I shot her my best laser-sharp glare. “Michelle!”

She glanced over her shoulder, returning her own shitty stare. “What?”

Cap glanced at me and shrugged. “Ain’t much sense in beatin’ around the bush.” His eyes shifted to Michelle. “I been known to like it a little on the rough side.”

Michael coughed out a laugh. I glanced at Michael and shook my head.

“Sounds to me like we have two things in common,” Michelle said.

Cap folded his arms in front of his chest. “Oh we do?”

Michelle nodded. “Watching
New Girl
and rough sex.”

“You like it rough do ya?”

“The rougher the better,” Michelle said.

Oh.
My.
God.

It was not at all how I expected my perfectly planned Friday night to go. With the new furniture, decorations, pictures and random foliage I had arranged throughout the house, I had visions of a nice quiet night of eating, drinking and talking. In less than an hour, the one-sided conversation hadn’t included Michael and me, and the subject was now rough sex.

I walked around the bar and to Michael’s side. “What the fuck?” I whispered.

“Looks like a match made in heaven,” he responded.

I nodded toward them. Standing at the end of the bar giggling and staring at Cap, Michelle looked like an awestruck teenager. “Look at them,” I said with disgust.

Michael seemed genuinely okay with how they were acting. He chuckled. “They’re fine.”

“It’s embarrassing. Her boobs are falling out.”

“Cap seems to like it.”

Cap may have, but I didn’t. “I can’t believe she wore that top. She looks like a hooker. I wanted her to talk to you. I thought we’d like eat, and have a few drinks, and sit around on the new furniture and talk.”

“Looks like she had something else in mind. He’s not putting up much of an argument, though.”

“I’m sorry.” I kissed him lightly on the lips. “I love you.”

“There’s nothing to be sorry for. They’re having fun. We’ll eat and talk later.”

“Well, Brother Tripp. Sounds like we’re going to head over to my place,” Cap said.

What?

I shot Michelle another glare. “What?”

Michelle grinned. “We’re going to go watch
New Girl
and hang out.”

I waved toward the newly decorated living room. “You can watch
New Girl
here. And we can all hang out.”

“We’ll all hang out some other time,” she said.

A matter of minutes later, and they were gone. I sat on the new couch staring at the blank screen of the new sixty-inch LED television Michael purchased. “Now what?” I huffed.

Michael shrugged. “We could try that
New Girl
show.”

“I’m fine with that.”

By Monday morning, we had watched the entire first season of the show, only getting off of our new couch when completely necessary. Over the course of the weekend, I appreciated how Michael had changed since we met without becoming someone else.

We laughed until we cried while we watched the show, eating the finger foods and snacks I bought for the party. We drank wine, ate peanut butter out of a jar, and he held me in his arms until we fell asleep. At one point we decided to shower, and although we did it together, we were both far too excited to return to the show to initiate sex.

Having sex with Michael was magical, but I loved that we didn’t have to have sex to enjoy each other’s company. Our relationship was blossoming into so much more than sex, and on that weekend, I realized how easy it was to get lost in who Michael really was.

A former marine badass turned gun runner who wouldn’t hesitate to fight for the person or situation he felt was deserving.

And official couch potato.

He was mine, and I couldn’t wait until I could tell the world.

Chapter Thirty-Two

Michael

Terra stood in the kitchen facing the living room. With my chest against her back, I pressed my hands against her waist and rested my chin on her left shoulder. “I love you,” I whispered. “Are you about ready to go ride this thing?”

She tilted her head to the side, resting her cheek against mine. “I love you, too. I’ve been ready, but I think it’s just a lie. We’re never really going to leave.”

I released her hip with my right hand and traced the tip of my index finger along the zippered seam in the back of her dress. It seemed I’d just zipped it up.

The warm breath of her sigh prompted me to continue.

I pulled the tab of the zipper down slowly. Her dress parted in the center, exposing her back as the two pieces of material fell to each side. I released her hip with my left hand and unclasped her bra with the tips of my thumbs. Eagerly, I reached inside the front of her dress and squeezed her breasts until she began to moan against my cheek.

I pressed my mouth to her neck, kissing her softly while continuing to knead her soft flesh. With each squeeze of my hands, her breath escaped her lungs in a sudden burst as if forced by my touch.

My cock began to fight for freedom.

While kissing along the side of her neck as if it were the only portion of her body deserving of the sensual touch of my lips, I pulled my hands from beneath her bra and reached inside her panties.

I pressed my right palm flat against her stomach, and slowly slid it past the waist of her panties, stopping as the tip of my middle finger slid into her wetness.

“Oh God,” she cooed.

Touching her had become easy, and I found it to be very rewarding. The softness of her skin, the smooth contour of her body, and the effect my touch seemed to have on her prompted me to continue—often well beyond what I had planned.

Exploring her body was easy, stopping proved to be impossible.

I slid my finger in and out of her tight confines a few times, lubricating it fully with the juices that freely flowed from her willing warmth. I pulled it out, then bit her neck lightly, circling her swollen clit with the tip of my finger while I nibbled my way to her shoulder.

She inhaled a choppy breath. I pressed my two middle fingers together and pushed them inside. She slapped her flattened hands against the countertop, spreading them wider as I pushed my fingers deeper.

The base of my fingers massaged her clit. She gasped.

I moved my mouth to her ear. “I’m going to fuck you senseless.”

“Please,” she begged.

I fumbled with my left hand and eventually got my jeans unbuttoned and unzipped. My rigid cock sprung free as soon as the denim cleared the shaft. I lifted her dress and grasped the waist of her panties in my left hand, while still finger-fucking her rhythmically with my right.

I breathed into her ear. “Do you like these panties?”

“They’re...one of my...favorites,” she said between strokes of my fingers.

“Sorry,” I whispered as I yanked against the frail fabric sharply, snapping the material in two.

I pulled the top of her dress down and her bra up, exposing her full breasts, the sight of which drove me insane. My left hand pressed against the center of her back, pushing her chest onto the countertop.

I leaned over her and bit the bottom of her ear between my teeth. My cock tapped against her inner thigh as I positioned myself between her legs. “Back that little ass up so I can shove you full of cock.”

She raised herself on her tiptoes and pressed the cheeks of her ass against my hips. With my fingers still steadily fucking her and my palm torturing her clit, she reached between her legs and fumbled to find my throbbing shaft, eventually gripping it tight in her hand.

Before I could give my next instruction, she guided the head into her wanting pussy. With my fingers still deep inside of her, I fought to push my length inside of her. Determined to fill her with my love, I curled the tips of my fingers into the rough flesh of her G-spot, tickling it as I pushed my length steadily into her.

I released her earlobe from between my teeth and encompassed her ear with my mouth. “How much do you want?” I asked.

Her response came out in grunts. “Every. Fucking. Inch.”

Her response made my already rock-hard cock become harder yet. Now giving her once-in-a-lifetime pussy some serious stiff dick, I lifted my chest from her back and gazed down at her perfectly shaped ass.

Slowly, I worked my hips back and forth, gaining a little more depth with each stroke. I watched as the glistening shaft slid from inside of her, only to be pushed back in as deep as I was able to explore.

In a few strokes, I was balls deep, my fingers still working in unison with my rigid shaft.

Her already tight pussy being filled with two of my fingers and my cock made the experience that much more enjoyable. Her pussy gripped me like a fist, making each stroke one step closer to climax.

I held myself in deep and curled my fingers into her G-spot.

“God, I love fucking you,” I moaned.

“Fuck. Me. Then,” she grunted.

It was all the invitation I needed. I pulled my fingers from inside of her, grabbed her waist with each hand, and began to pound my stiff shaft into her like it was the last chance I would ever have.

The sound of our grunting filled the air, and soon turned into short, choppy breaths. I felt my balls tighten, warning me the end was near.

My hips slapped against the soft skin of her ass a few more times, and it was all I could take. I closed my eyes, arched my back and prepared for the climactic finale.

“I’m going...Michael...I’m...”

Her pussy clenched against my shaft. I somehow managed a few more strokes, each one more difficult than the last. The friction of her flesh against mine caused my cock to swell.

Her legs shook.

As we often did, in unison, we reached climax.

I exploded inside of her, filling her with every drop of my love. Her pussy contracted one last time, shooting a shock through me and reminding me that there was no one else on earth that could satisfy me in the manner she was able.

I held myself deep inside of her and lifted against her shoulders until her back was against my chest.

“I can’t. Stand up,” she murmured.

“Just one kiss,” I whispered.

She turned to face me, forcing me to fall from her warmth. We embraced, and kissed passionately, which caused me to forget everything else that surrounded me. Terra became all that existed each and every time we kissed.

At some point, the kiss ended.

Our mouths parted. I gazed into her beautiful brown eyes. She was an amazing woman, and I loved her with every ounce of my being.

“I love you,” I said.

She stood and stared back at me, her mouth twisted into an ornery smirk, her unkempt hair hanging down past her shoulders in a tangled mess.

“I love you too,” she said. “But at some point in time we’re going to have to leave this kitchen. My legs are rubber.”

It was the second time we had sex in the kitchen since the shower that followed our breakfast. I glanced at the clock. It was almost one o’clock in the afternoon.

“Are you hungry?” I asked.

“I’m starving, but I can’t stand up anymore.”

I lifted her from her feet and lowered her down onto the kitchen counter.

I pulled up my jeans. “Sit there for a minute. I’ll make lunch.”

“And then we’ll go ride the roller coaster?”

“Maybe,” I said. “It depends on what happens after we’re done eating.”

We’d been trying to get away to ride the roller coaster for over a month, and it seemed an impossible task. Each and every time, for whatever reason, we ended up fucking instead.

“Anymore, when you say
ride the roller coaster
, it’s just another term for sex. We’re never going to ride it.”

I glanced down at my crotch. “Say it again,” I said.

“What?
Roller coaster
?”

I felt a faint twitch in my jeans.

I laughed. “I think you may be right.”

“I think with you, it’s about priorities. And the roller coaster is no longer a priority,” she said.

“Riding you and riding a roller coaster are similar, I guess,” I said.

“Oh really?”

I buckled my belt and nodded. “Both are exhilarating, take my breath away, and cause my heart to race.”

“I’m better though,” she said.

“How so?”

She raked her fingers through her hair. “A roller coaster won’t suck your cock for Jo Malone candles.”

The thought of her sucking my dick in the car for the candles made me grin. “Which are about gone, by the way.”

“Make our lunch, and after we eat we can go get some more.”

I pulled the refrigerator door open and glanced over my shoulder. “It’s going to cost you.”

“I can’t believe you make me suck your cock for candles.” She closed her eyes and inhaled a long breath through her nose. “But it’s so worth it.”

I closed my eyes, and inhaled a whiff of the sweet aroma that filled our home. I thought of her sucking my cock in the car after we left the candle store. I glanced down at my twitching cock.

Worth it?

I couldn’t agree with her more.