I grunt when my greediness for her to take all of me sees her releasing a gag. I know I’m packing heat, but unvoiced acknowledgment is so much better than spoken truths. That’s what my relationship with Demi is founded on. She knows I care like fuck for her. I’d put her above anything and anyone, but I don’t need to shout that from the rooftops for her to know. I merely have to show her, which I’ve done every day for almost two months.
“It’s not safe for you there, Demi. I’m not willing to risk it.” Do you have any clue how hard it is to talk when you’re being driven to the brink of ecstasy by delicate lips and an adventurous tongue? Take my word for it. It’s almost fucking impossible.
“I can’t stay here forever, Maddox. It’ll drive me crazy.” Like she is me when she swivels her tongue around my knob. After dragging her teeth over the tip ever so gently, she does a second prolonged lick. “Besides, Rocco said my uncle is away, so there’s no reason for me not to come.”
“Fucking Rocco.”
I realize I said my comment out loud when Demi murmurs, “He’s offered. I declined. I’d much rather fuck you.”
She thinks she’s being cute. I’m seconds from going on a murderous rampage—after I come. I’m a good fighter, but I am no He-Man.
I push Demi’s head back toward my dick before saying, “You shouldn’t be talking with Rocco. He isn’t a good man.” She greets him when he drops me off after every fight. She has no clue about his middle-of-the-night visits each Thursday. “But I’ll ask him what he thinks when I see him later today.” This kills me to admit, but Rocco is somewhat protective of Demi. If he thinks she’ll be in any danger, he’ll tie her ass to a dining room chair to ensure she stays out of the firing zone. “Until then…”
I don’t have to speak another word. With a smile that exposes she knows she’s won this battle, Demi swipes her tongue across the slit in the crown of my cock, then devours me like she’s never been fed.
It’s a highly-craved forty minutes.
“I don’t see an issue with it. Col is out of town. Dimitri is occupied. It might be a good opportunity to get her out and about for a couple of hours.” Rocco tosses a gym bag full of cash into the trunk of the Buick before slamming it shut, forgetting Demi isn’t aware of our morning rendezvous. “Shit, sorry. I forgot you’re keeping things from her.”
“I’m not keeping things from her. I’m…” I’ve got nothing.
“Telling porkies, pulling her leg, keeping it on the down-low. However you Irish fucks say it, you’re doing it.”
Despite what my pasty-white skin tells you, I’m only part Irish. I probably have as much Italian blood running through my veins as Dimitri. “Why is Dimitri occupied? He hasn’t missed a feature the past six weeks.” I can’t say I blame him. From the quick calculations I’ve done, each Friday night schedule pulls in an easy one hundred thousand.
“He’s… ah… got some family shit to take care of.”
In case his blubbering didn’t clue you in, Rocco is a shit liar.
“Fien?”
“Who?” Rocco fires back, once again showcasing his horrendous skills.
I don’t know who the fuck Fien is, but it’s clear she’s important to Dimitri. He could be in the middle of negotiating a record-breaking deal, and he leaves within a nanosecond of Rocco whispering her name into his ear.
Eager to end our conversation before he puts his foot in his mouth, Rocco nudges his head to the hanging open driver’s side door of the Buick. “Why don’t you get a head start, then you’ll be back in time to make your girl breakfast in bed.” I shake my head, the tingling in my balls from the best blowjob of my life still not enough to convince me to leave Demi in Rocco’s care. Furthermore, Saint is already on his way. He buzzed me thirty minutes ago, but before I can announce that, Rocco’s next set of words steals more than words from my throat. They wind me as well. “It’s the best way to start her big b-day.”
“It’s Demi’s birthday?” I was meant to articulate that in my head.
When Rocco nods, I snatch up his wrist to check the date on his watch. I knew Demi’s birthday was approaching, but with everything going on, I didn’t realize it was this close.
“Fuck!” I curse when Rocco’s expensive timekeeping contraption announces it is the twenty-first. It’s Demi’s first birthday as my girl, and I completely fucked it all up. “I’m a fucking asshole.”
“Relax,” Rocco says with a laugh. “Last year, she got a double shift at Petretti’s. I’m sure you can’t do worse than that.”
“She deserves better than some fucking eggs on toast, Rocco.” He lifts his chin but remains quiet, leaving me plenty of time to devise a much better plan. “Do this run for me—”
“No can do,” he interrupts before I can state all my terms.
“Then I’ll do a double run next week.”
Rocco shoves his tattooed hands under his arms before he arches a brow. “Who says there’s more than one run a week?”
I jog around the trunk, lean into the Buick, then pull on the trunk latch. “I’ve seen Dimitri’s crash pad. I know you’ve got more than a two-bit operation going on.” After removing the gym bag full of cash from the trunk, I shove it into Rocco’s chest. “Do this for me, and I’ll do two runs a week from here on out.”
A half wolf-whistle, half chuckle vibrates his lips. “Dimitri said you were gone. Yowie, motherfucker, you’re full-blown in love.”
His comment has my fists itching to smash his teeth in, but I hold back when he lowers my gym bag from his chest, but he doesn’t let go of it. “Two runs a week. I’ll be back Tuesday.” The urge to smack him into the middle of next week returns full pelt when he adds, “Give the birthday girl a kiss for me,” before he slides into the back of an SUV, leaving me with a plan but no way of implementing it without freeing Demi from the trap I caught her in seven weeks ago.
24
Demi
Nerves are in abundance in my stomach. I’m so excited, I feel the need to pee for every minute of every hour. Today I am twenty-two. I never thought I’d reach this day, much less have a reason to celebrate it, yet here I am being driven to a secret location by my boyfriend, who also happens to be the only guy I’ve ever crushed on.
I’d pinch myself if I weren’t afraid it would wake me up.
I haven’t left the cabin in a month and a half. It was stocked with supplies before we arrived, and anything we’ve used, Rocco turns up with like magic each Friday afternoon like he scoured our pantry before his arrival. I have no reason to leave, but I’m still grateful to be out of there. Claustrophobia makes no sense until you stare at the same walls day in and day out.
When Maddox pulls his bike down a dusty road many miles from the cabin, he squeezes my hands wrapped around his waist, drawing my focus to him. “This is going to be as tacky as fuck, but I hope you still enjoy it.”