He pushed deeper inside of his wife. Her gasp pushed her warm breath onto his full lips, her brow furrowed in borrowed ecstasy. He wound his arms around her, sharing the air between their mouths and the sweat on their skin. “Tell me you love me,” he said as he watched her. She squirmed on top of him, trapped like a field mouse and its slithering predator. He filled her again and again with no remorse for her moans. “Tell me. Say it.”
“I love you.”
He rolled over deftly, still tucked away but she was different, her scent spreading through the room: honeysuckle and orchids. She pushed her knees back so he could peer down and watch her love bloom for him. He pressed his lips onto her knees as he dipped inside of her. He could feel every muscle inside of her twitch around him and he felt himself unravel with every thrust. He wanted to hate her; he wanted to stop and drag her into the deepest hole the federal government could provide. Yet, he wanted nothing but to bury himself deep inside of her, to release the thick sorrow and melancholy that kept him captive. He was trapped in quicksand; a harrowing love for his dead wife and the forbidden lust he possessed for the thief.
“How much do you love me, Daddy?”
“I love you more than infinity. How much do you love me?”
“…Infinity plus two!”
Dorian fell out of the Mustang, his head still ringing from the collision. The ground was cold and wet under him as he struggled to straighten himself. The Corvette was out of sight but he could hear the engine rumble nearby. He looked around for his phone when he discovered it, smashed to bits a few feet away. He pulled his weapon and flashlight to advance on his suspect until he reached the car. Still inside, Noelle heard the Fed approaching and stuck her hands out the busted window. “Please…I’m stuck,” she said, pinned upside down in her seat. After he assessed that she was truly stuck, he holstered his weapon. He managed to open the door easily. “I’m pinned. I think my leg…” Noelle started.
“Alright, This is gonna hurt like hell. On my count, unbuckle your seatbelt,” Dorian said. He wrapped his arms around her torso tightly and made sure he held his breath so he wouldn’t get distracted by her scent. “One…two…three,” he said before yanking her out of the car. Her scream echoed into the darkness as he pulled twice more to get her out.
A large gash on her knee was bleeding freely. He yanked a torn piece of fabric from her dress and made a tourniquet high on her thigh. “Do you have a cell phone?”
“No,” she said, her face grimaced as he bandaged her. “Ok. There are some cabins near by. I’ll have to go check it out, find a phone, get us some help,” he said. He lifted her off the ground and carried him back to his car. “Wait, you’re not leaving me out here, are you?” she said as he sat her in the backseat. “I won’t be gone long. We need to get some help,” Dorian said. He rounded the car and opened his trunk to retrieve his emergency duffel.
“So you’ll leave a defenseless, INJURED woman alone in the dark, in the woods? Have you seen any horror film ever?” she said, standing on her good leg. “You can’t walk. The cabins are at least a mile away.” Noelle looked around and picked up a large stick nearby and shoved it under her arm.
“Let’s go,” she said before she hobbled away.Read More »
Her body ached as he sat across from her. The slight pressure between her legs gave her constant reminders of the last night they were together.
He was a terrifying man until he smiled or spoke, his gentle demeanor conflicting with his hardened face, muscular stature & numerous tattoos that peeked from the openings in his clothes: chest, arms, & hands.
He was sweet, charming, funny in public. Dinner, followed by some too close dancing that left her practically vibrating when they reached her apartment. “Would you like to come inside?” Her voice rattled.
He stood behind her on the elevator, itching to caress her breasts and press her warm brown skin against him. He missed the way she was warm and wet between her thighs, constantly ready to take all of him. When she shut the door, he closed the distance between them, pressing his hard cock between her ass cheeks and wrapping his massive hands around her throat. “My God, you’re beautiful,” he whispered, his second hand snaking around to unbutton her shirt. He could barely hold her large breasts in his free hand but the combination of the bumpy lace and her buttery flesh was nearly too much to bare. “I want you….” she breathed, pulling her skirt around her hips. As much as he wanted her in this moment, torturing her was more fun. “Take off your clothes,” he nipped in her ear, before breaking from her and walking away.
Even the way he sat was arousing. He spread across the couch, his dick visible through the gray slacks as she stripped. He wanted to tease her but she wanted to be the torturer for once. She couldn’t move any slower as she peeled away, her body curving dangerously around the lace bra and thong. She sank to the floor and crawled to her lover, ready to pounce panther-like into his affection. His lips hovered over his thickness briefly before she slithered into his lap. She unhooked her bra & was met with the tender affection from his lips, matched with the soft bristles of his beard. He clamped his lips down on her plump nipples.
She laid on the floor before him, her hand holding her fat treasure as he undressed. His erection sprung free from its prison, strong & plentiful between them. He would give her all she could handle tonight. He kissed her everywhere, his mouth cascading down her body, his hands pulling away the last shred of her decency. “Spread your legs,” he whispered into her skin. Toes in the air and knees apart, she was unabashed to show him what was his.
She moaned when his lips met hers. Such a small bundle of nerves that was sending shockwaves through her. Her nectar overflowed but he never wavered, his tongue moved deftly all over her before slipping inside of her. She didn’t want to come that way, not just yet, but the motor on his tongue wouldn’t be exhausted until she was a panting mess. She was resolved, clenching down as much as she could keep it tucked away, until she felt the thickness of his middle finger bury inside her. She cried out as the waves crashed around her, his tongue wagging at breakneck speed around her tender clit. Before she could catch her breath, his mouth was on hers and his dick was inside her.
“You taste so good,” he said, his hips grinding on hers. She hadn’t regained her cognizance and language eluded her. All she knew and felt was him. “Dammit…” he whispered, feeling himself unraveling already. She was too warm & wet & he wasn’t ready to end it just yet, but his body betrayed him. Every stroke beyond the last one was a miracle and felt like a blessing. He spread her hips wider and dug deeper inside her. Her pussy glommed onto him as wave after wave of ecstasy washed over her. She could feel him flutter with him so deep in her wetness. She wrapped her legs around him & pulled him closer, crushing her mouth on his. “I’m…” he heaved, feeling that familiar pressure slipping from his grasp. “Stay with me,” she whispered, wrapping her hand around his neck. He didn’t have time to second guess her request. He spread her legs again & stroked her hard as he felt the thick stream escape him. Hearing him moaning & quivering pitched her over the edge with him.
Olivia squealed as Dorian picked her up in a bear hug and swung her around. “Congrats, baby!” she laughed. He set her down gently and kissed her cherry red lips. His graduation from Quantico was a huge achievement, however, it wasn’t the reason behind his fluttering heart. “Marry me,” he said, his forehead pressed against hers. “Shut up,” she said, slapping his chest and laughing. He caught her arm and sank down on one knee. He reached in his inner pocket and produced the blue box holding the single solitaire. “Olivia…” he began. They’d only been dating for 8 months but Dorian was sure the sun rose and set with her. “I’ve never been in love before you. I’ve never known someone so amazing, so loving, so deserving of everything the universe has to offer and if you say yes, I promise I will spend the rest of my life trying to give it to you.” Olivia’s eyes swelled with tears at the beautiful man knelt before her. Her head was nodding before she could get the words from her lips. “Yes!”
“Where the fuck is the power?!” Dorian yelled into his earpiece, making his way through the dark and panic. It was her, it had to be. As soon the power was out, she slipped from his grip and into the darkness. “I had her!” he yelled as he got closer to the Markov. “Sanchez, do you have eyes?!”
“I can’t see shit! It’s pitch black!” The party began to grow more and more anxious in the dark, escalating to some screams and raised voices. “Everyone, everyone, please remain calm! We are working on this issue as expeditious as possible! If you can all just stay where you are to prevent any further injuries,” Mayor Hayes said from somewhere in the dark.
“Maverick, what the fuck happened? We still had time!” Noelle said, pushing through the obscured guests. “I may or may not have blown the power for the entire Eastern grid. Don’t worry, I’m working on getting it back! I guess it couldn’t handle the surges I was sending to the security systems and I didn’t realize that…”
“Maverick! Focus! I wasn’t in position! How long until the power comes back on?” Noelle barked when suddenly, the lights flickered on in the manor. “The entire grid just came back live! I didn’t do this!” Noelle had nearly made it to the display holding the Markov when she noticed the glass case was already empty. “Oh my God, it’s gone.”
“My wedding ring! I took it off to wash my hands and when I looked back, it was gone!” Olivia half-sobbed. “Hey, no, it’s ok, baby, we’ll find it.”
“I can’t believe I even took it off…” she said as he pulled her into his chest. “Don’t cry baby. If it’s really gone, we’ll just get another one.”
“That’s not why I’m crying….I…I just haven’t told you…” Dorian’s heart dropped into his stomach. Her tone had changed and he immediately feared the worst. In the few months they’d been married, they’d been fighting more frequently. At first he wrote it off as the end of the honeymoon phase, but after the things she said to him last night, he slept on the couch. He silently prayed for control over his temper over whatever she told him, no matter how awful. He pulled her away and looked in her tearful eyes. “My emotions have been all over the place and making me a little crazy lately and I just decided to take a test and….I’m pregnant.” She could tell Dorian was braced for bad news and it took a few seconds for his steely resolve to melt. “You mean…I’m gonna be a daddy?”
She had to move fast when she saw the Fed making his way towards her; it would be a matter of seconds before he and his backup surrounded her. She ducked out of sight into a nearby hallway. She needed a few seconds to look over the plans for the house again when she spotted it out the corner of her eye: her father’s coin. Tied to string, it dangled on the doorknob catty-corner to her position. She crossed the hall and examined the coin closely. She instantly recognized the symbols on either side. How did it get there? Who put it there? Questions burned in her mind until her adrenaline prodded her. It had to be a sign. She pushed the door open and slipped inside.
The office was decorated warmly: pewter green wall, gray carpet and a large oak desk decorated the east side of the room. A French double door was situated on the other side, showcasing the grounds towards the main entrance. Someone had given her a way out. She had no time to contemplate the mire; she needed to run. Now. She kicked off the gold heels and pushed through the doors in a full sprint.
Dorian had made his way to the front door as the party continued on inside. He scanned the view until he spotted the woman in white hopping into her red Corvette. He drew his weapon and pointed in her direction. “FBI! FREEZE!” There was no way Noelle was giving up that easily. She peeled away from the curb, almost hitting the valet and burned rubber down the driveway. “Dammit!” Dorian yelled as he galloped down the stairs. He made his way to the Mustang being pulled around. “FBI! I need this vehicle,” he said as he shoved the valet out the way. He sped around and down the driveway after the thief.
“Shaw, where the hell did you go?”
“I am in pursuit of the suspect! Female, African American, approximately 25-30 years old, driving a red 2017 Corvette!”
“I’ll put local P.D. in the loop. Dorian, are you SURE she has the bracelet?”
“Affirmative. I’m going after her ass,” Dorian said, before hanging up the phone. The hum of their engines ripped through the air as they sped down to the expressway. Dorian remained mere paces behind her as she zig zagged through traffic trying to lose him. Noelle hit redial as she dodged a Caravan in the farthest lane. “Maverick, I need you to get me out of here. I got a Fed on my tail!”
“Whoa, FBI?! How did that…”
“Never mind, Gina! I need to lose him!”
“Take the expressway for 4 more miles. You’re close to the Casup Basin. There are a few cabins still in those woods.” Noelle stomped on the accelerator hard and shot away from her pursuer, eager to get out of sight. “Exit’s on your left!” Maverick yelled as she watched her GPS display of Noelle’s location. Noelle turned the steering wheel hard and zoomed across three lanes to get off the freeway. “Shit!” The Fed yelled, nearly having to make a U-turn in front of several cars.
“Push, Olivia, push!”
“I CAN’T!” she yelled before collapsing back into his arms. “Please…we can still make it to the hospital, Dorian,” she sobbed. Her labor began and progressed quickly, too quickly for them to make the trip to the hospital like they’d planned. “How long before that ambulance gets here?” Dorian barked into the phone. “I’m sorry, sir, but they are still 20 minutes out due to the collapse. From the sound of things, I’m gonna have to walk you through delivering your daughter,” the 911 operator said calmly into the phone. Olivia, slick from sweat, shook her head furiously. “No, no, no, no, please, I can’t—“ she began before she was overwhelmed by another contraction. She let out a scream that sent a shiver down Dorian’s spine. “Dorian, can you please look between Olivia’s legs and describe to me what you see?” He kissed his wife on the top of her head before changing his position on the bathroom floor. “Oh my God! I think I see the head!”
“Ok, Olivia, that means you’re crowning. You need to push as hard and as long as you can so you can have your baby tonight, ok?”
“No, no, we had a plan. Dorian, tell her, we had a plan,” she said, on the brink of exhaustion. “Hey, hey, look at me,” he said to her. “You are going to have our baby tonight. But I need my warrior right now. I’m not giving up on you and I’m sure as hell not letting you give up. So on my count, I need you to push hard and long so we can meet our kid, ok?” The tears welling in Dorian’s eyes were enough to convince her. “With me, one, two, THREE!”
“Shaw, what….your….-cation?” Dorson yelled into the phone. His connection faded the farther he drove into the woods around the lake. “She’s in the Basin! I’m not gonna lose her!” he yelled before the phone disconnected. He threw the phone into the seat next to him and pushed on. Noelle steered the car deeper and deeper into the darkening woods but with every turn she made, the headlights behind her followed. Dorian pushed the car next to hers, both of them casting heated glances at one another. He turned the wheel and bumped the back of the Corvette with the front of the Mustang. Noelle shot an incredulous look at the Fed before she tried to zoom away, however, the ground had become too muddy for the car to gain necessary traction. Noelle, afraid for her life, veered the car away from his last bump and steered the car over a log. The car skidded down a slight embankment and rolled twice before landing on its lid. Dorian slammed on the brakes but the mired ground sent him sailing headfirst into a large oak tree.
Her body shook as she pulled herself up on the bar. “Come on, I need five more, Noelle,” he said, his voice gruff below her. “I can’t!” she yelled as her scrawny arms gave out and she swung from the bar. “CAN’T isn’t in our vocabulary,” he barked. Noelle dropped down onto the floor and stuck her acrylic fingernail in his face. “No, it’s in YOUR vocabulary. This is some bullshit, I’m gone,” she said as she grabbed her bag. “Noelle,” Antonio yelled after her, his hands on his hips. “I don’t know why I have to do this crap. I told you, I don’t need a dad!”
“So what, you expect to go back out there and do what? Keep grifting at the grocery store? Go to juvy? Get lost in the system?”
Noelle adjusted the bag on her shoulder and bit her lip. “If you want to do this, you need to do it RIGHT. I’m offering more than these lessons…” he trailed off. His own daughter would be a little younger than Noelle and he was constantly reminded of her when Noelle was around. He felt like it was a second chance and he needed to do it right. “Do you wanna go grab some dinner?”
Deputy Director Dorson signed the last of the paperwork as she waved Agent Sanchez into her office. “You said you have an update for me on the Trevant case?”
“Actually, it’s about Agent Shaw,” Sanchez said as he sat down. Dorson’s brow furrowed and she stopped her task. “What happened?”
“I think you mean ‘What hasn’t happened?’ Shaw hasn’t shown up to any briefings in 3 days now. Security puts him in the building, but I have yet to see him coming or going.”
“I’ll admit, he’s been a bit reclusive since he was reinstated but that’s nothing to be worried about.”
“Yeah, well, you won’t feel that way when you see what he’s been up to,” Sanchez said, before he placed the files onto her desk. She flipped open the first few and was puzzled. “What is this?”
“I think he has a ‘lead’. According to these and his web of delusion in his office, he believes the thief is a bounty hunter of sorts, contracted from the Dark Web to steal priceless items. He researched EVERY high value item stolen in the last 5 years and its history. How many times it was almost stolen, tips and rumors about those who would pay for these items, etc.”
“So…he’s tracking the criminals who could have paid this thief?”
“”Exactly and the last four thefts have been within a 100 mile radius of the Trevant case…”
“Meaning a local contract,” Dorson said.
Sanchez produced a different folder from Shaw’s office. “All the items that have been taken have been on the assumed radar of one Li Yiao.” Dorson’s skin crawled when she saw the dated mugshot of the mobster. “We’ve been after this guy for years. He’s untouchable. How did he get this information?”
“I have no idea. Like I said, he’s working all this out on his own.”
“Does he have anything concrete?”
“Nothing. It’s all circumstantial, and frankly, a little crazy.”
“Well, we can’t go after this guy again because he likes expensive things. He has the best representation money can buy and the Bureau refuses to go after him until they have enough to put him away for good.”
“Don’t think Shaw cares about that. Also on that web of his, he’s planning on catching the theft in the act. Tomorrow.”
“Jesus Christ,” Dorson said before she picked up the phone.
“What you’re asking for is impossible,” Noelle said, tossing the invite back onto the table. She was at her wit’s end with the mafioso, especially after the incident at the train station. “You’re a professional. The best money can buy, or so I hear,” Yiao said. He shuffled a pair of cards behind his desk, the clacking of the plastic cards reverberated around the circular room. “I’m the best because I don’t get caught. Robbing the house of the most affluent man in the city in a crowd doesn’t exactly resonate that.”
“A thief is a thief,” Yiao said passively.
“The building hasn’t been cased. I don’t know ANY of the security protocols AND it will be filled with security guards, police officers and hundreds of witnesses, INCLUDING the Mayor.”
Yiao seemed unperturbed by her concerns. He pushed a black folder across the desk with his index finger. Noelle grimaced before she picked it up. “I took the liberty of doing all the legwork for you. Consider it a parting gift.”
“And the video?”
“All evidence against you will be surrendered upon completion of the job. We’ll be done.” Noelle narrowed her eyes suspiciously. She didn’t trust him but she had very little choice in the matter. He had too much dirt on her and one anonymous murmur from him could lead to a lifetime in a hole under the Pentagon. She snatched the file from the desk and Yiao’s face spread into a sickly sweet smile. “Relax. You’re holding the ticket to your freedom.”
Outside, the busy street was humming in the unusually warm weather. Noelle turned towards home and began maneuvering through the bodega traffic when someone slammed into her, throwing her back against the wall. “Jesus!” she yelled after the stranger, whom had continued walking. She straightened herself when she noticed a piece of paper tucked between her and the folder. She opened it and nearly lost her breath.
In a familiar hand, she read:
THE MAYOR’S GALA IS A TRAP. DON’T GO.
She peered down the street but the stranger had disappeared into the sea of people.
“I’m not comfortable with this, Dorian,” Davis Shaw whispered to his son. He didn’t want to alert anyone to his son’s plan to play Cops and Robbers during the biggest event he would probably experience. The great hall was swarming with decorators and local volunteers, readying the space for the following night. “Dad,” Dorian said. Davis stepped closer to his son and hissed into his ear. “You’re asking me to let a criminal steal a precious valuable in the home of the most respected figure in the city. Surely, you can understand my apprehension.”
“I promise, I have everything under control.”
“How come someone hasn’t come to, I don’t know, debrief me or the mayor? What kind of security measures are being taken?”
“Dad,” Dorian said, turning to face his father and grabbing him by the shoulders. “Relax. Everything is already in place. The sting will be handled swiftly and with such care that you or the guests will know it ever happened.”
The lie seemed to placate the senior Shaw, who went off to double check the rest of the arrangements. In reality, Dorian was flying solo and blind on the mission. He had alerted security of a credible threat and (after showing his credentials) insisted on coverage for all the exits for the entire evening. As he made another walkthrough, his phone buzzed in his pocket; upon first glance, he saw it was Deputy Director Dorson’s fourth call. “Not now,” he whispered to himself as he silenced the phone. He turned around to see Dorson, standing before him, phone in hand. “Seems like an important call,” she said sarcastically. Dorian felt as if his stomach had dropped down to his feet. “Deputy Director…”
“Can I speak with you? Alone?” she said before walking towards the alcove beneath the grand staircase. “HOW DARE YOU SET UP A STING OPERATION WITHOUT INVOLVING THE AGENT IN CHARGE OR YOUR COMMANDING OFFICER?!” she hissed, nearly pinning him to the wall. “I’m sorry, ma’am, but I…” Dorian began before she held up her hand to stop him. “Never, in my tenure at the Bureau, have I seen such blatant disregard and disrespect for authority, even after a slew of warnings and second chances. Give me one reason why I shouldn’t suspend you WITHOUT PAY upon review and recommendation of termination,” Dorson continued in a low voice.
“I know this is complete unorthodox but….”
“Unorthodox?! This is completely unprecidented!”
“I’m going with my gut here. You know I wouldn’t jump headfirst like this without being absolutely sure.”
Dorson scoffed as he tried to reassure her. “I’ve done all the pertinent research. I’m 100% sure that something is going down tomorrow night. You know I’m a bloodhound. I just need you to trust me.”
“You WERE a bloodhound, Shaw. Now, you’re a loaded gun in the hands of a child. I don’t know what to expect out of you anymore and frankly, I cannot stick my neck out any farther for you.”
“Ok, I’ll make you a deal. If I don’t make an arrest tomorrow, you can take my badge and put me on leave. Fire me, stick me in a padded room, if that’s what you desire.”
“You’re that confident?”
“I am,” Dorian said. Dorson thought for a moment, before pointing a finger into his chest. “I’m sending backup, Sanchez and his team. One fuck up, ONE and you’ll be praying for that padded room.”
Dorian had to admit: it was the perfect excuse to keep him busy.Read More »
We’re swimming in reality.
I’m (technically) a millenial, so I spend most of my time online. Twitter is literally my life’s blood. Snapchat and Instagram are entertaining when I have time to kill. I visit Facebook occassionally to check in with distant relatives. If this were the Matrix, I am 100% jacked in.
Because of this, I (we) am bombarded with news. News of the Republican repeals, distressing news about the local and national communities,”stirring” news meant only to arouse anger and conversation amongst timelines and, of course, disparaging tweets from He-Who-Somehow-Became-President. Since I have no self-control and absolutely refuse to put my phone down (even while typing this), I find myself swimming in anxiety, depression and exhaustion.
Writing provides an EXIT door.
Now that I’m in the later stages of my 20s, I’ve muscled my way into logging off a few times a month for breathers. Sometimes I literally can’t take any more news: no more death, no more videos of fights and riots, no more idiotic arguments over the (nonexistent) liberal/gay/black agendas.
I can build worlds from nothing and destroy them with ease. I can create tolerant, loving, honest people with the flick of the wrist. People who look like me can be represented honestly, without dated stereotypes or identifiers. I’ve probably already written about someone like you or someone like you.
Being a writer is one of the harder arts, IMO. I tried to go into journalism when I got to college, but when I realized there was ZERO creative freedom, I dropped it immediately. I’m just not that type of writer, and to force me into a gray box is to force me into an early grave (I’m being dramatic but you see what I mean!). To be talented enough to paint mental pictures for others is a gift I don’t plan to squander. Even if no one ever reads another word I write, I would still push along. No matter how difficult it gets or how many blocks I will suffer through, the end results is always something even I’m shocked to read. I believe that, if you truly love your hobbies/career, you’ll take the good with the bad. Sometimes, I’m completely uninterested in writing and I’ll have an amazing idea at 4am that wakes me from my sleep. It’s ingrained deep in me, so much so that I cannot ignore it or abandon it.
If you’ve never been attracted to reading (or writing) fiction, look at it this way: when the world weighs on you, words can be the wings that carry you away.
Li Yiao had his tentacles spread through the far reaches of the east coast. He was a mobster by choice; a career path laid out by his father and his father before him. He was ruthless, powerful and money hungry. He never accepted “no” as an answer when it came to things that he wanted, including people. His men were everywhere, always watching Noelle, whether she came or went. She constantly changed phones and phone numbers but Yiao was always one step ahead and lately, the first and most frequent call she received on each phone. The sun was rising over the horizon, the orange glow brightening the room as she scanned through his file. Hidden in a pizza box, Maverick had managed to sneak his entire dossier to her. He was wanted for racketeering, prostitution, assault, murder and a laundry list of other offenses. He was infamous for getting his own hands dirty; he was an avid believer that when you killed a person, you absorbed their power from their blood. He was a monster and he was poised to ruin everything Noelle had worked so hard for.Read More »
It felt as if they had been sitting together for hours, but 17 minutes had only passed since Dorian walked into the room. Dr. Wilhemina Harris stared at him through her cat eyed glasses, legs crossed at the knee and a notepad balanced in her lap. Dorian was, what she defined as, a textbook pessimist; he never believed in therapy or “shrinks”. Culturally, Dorian was raised to believe therapy was a waste of money. If you couldn’t “pray” your problems away, you bottle them and push them down until you developed an ulcer. He cleared his throat loudly and dramatically, as he silently prayed she would just give up the stalemate and let him leave. “So…tell me about the case you’re on,” Dr. Harris said as she patted her notebook. “That’s classified,” he said flatly. “I’m actually qualified to any information involving case files. I do work for the FBI as well,” she said. Dorian folded his arms, subconsciously on the defensive.Read More »