I watched her for a few hours on the monitor just to be sure she hadn’t suffered a concussion before finally turning in myself. I dreamt of soft titties, pouty lips, and golden blond hair, strands of which were wrapped around my fist while I pounded inside the sweetest pussy I’d ever felt in my life from behind. I awoke drenched in sweat with a raging hard-on, like a prepubescent teenager. The lingering dream state left me feeling vulnerable, which infuriated me to no end. I had been weak once before determination took hold. I would never show that same liability again, not over a woman. I needed this shit to be over.
A hot shower and change of clothing hadn’t tamped down the beast in me. The men my father sent down from Boston were as useless as a white crayon, incapable of telling the difference between their assholes from a hole in the wall. If I hadn’t already called in the cleaner for that other piece of shit, there would have been two more bodies to add to the pile. Three dead in less than twenty-four hours would’ve sent my father’s ire into the stratosphere. It took everything I had not to fly into a rage and deliver more damage than just a simple ass whopping. Watching her down on the ground, legs sprawled out, hair in shambles with a helpless look in her eyes had nearly destroyed my already frazzled nerves. They had no right to touch her, not while she was mine to care for, not when I alone owned her fate.
Against my earlier judgement, I took a look at her case file, the reasons for which I chose to ignore for the time being. She was a valuable commodity—soft skin, beautiful blue eyes, legs capable of holding a man around his ass to keep him locked deep inside her pussy. She was a rare treat who morphed into a mind-twister the more I read through her folder. Most of it was typical bullshit—age, height, weight, religious affiliation, that sort of thing. A few paragraphs down was where it really started to get interesting. She came from an affluent family. The only child of a Pennsylvania steel magnet, she dropped out of an exclusive all girls preparatory academy before graduating high school. Before I could read any further, a knock on the adjoining door pulled me from my exploration. I unlocked it with the key, not knowing what to expect, the scared little mouse or the determined woman ready to clock me upside the head.
Fuck me.
I was not ready.
“Well? Aren’t you going to let me in…friend?” A wide smile graced her perfect lips.
“Of course.” I stepped aside, allowing her to pass.
Her glowing complexion stood out perfectly against the dark color of the off-the-shoulder blouse and flowy skirt she’d decided to wear. Although her eyes were still a bit puffy from crying the night before, she looked absolutely breathtaking. I didn’t have to look to know what was on her feet; I could smell those greasy tennis shoes from a mile away. Luckily, I’d rubbed one off in the shower that morning, or my dick might’ve risen to the occasion. As things stood, it just might anyway. Otelia had clearly taken a bit of extra time to perfect her look, flawless makeup done up to perfection, not overdone or whorish in the least. I wondered if her extra effort was for me?
“I smelled food and thought this would be a good time to join you,” she noted.
“Then, by all means,”—I pulled out a chair—“sit and enjoy.”
We served ourselves with ease, the cook once again outdoing himself on the selections. Otelia wasn’t shy about eating. She dug in like a ravenous wolf after a rewarding kill of his prey. We ate in a comfortable silence…for all of three seconds.
“Since we’re going to be friends for the next thirteen hours or so, may I ask you a question?’ she probed, her expression somewhat serious.
“As long as you’re prepared for the answer and it’s within reason, sure, why not,” I challenged.
“Okay.” She smiled. “Do you have a woman, Mac. You know, someone special?”
“That’s what you want to know, who it is I’m fucking? Trust me, Otelia, my dick is impressive but hardly worth worrying your pretty little head about.”
“Not fucking, Mac. Geez, you’re such a man. I meant someone who calls to you on a deeper level. Someone who makes that black heart of yours go pitter-patter whenever you get close to her? Someone you could see yourself spending the rest of your life with?”
I’d killed one man yesterday and severely wounded another, yet it was this seemingly innocent question that created a sense of panic within me. Of all the things she could have asked, she chose the one thing I wasn’t willing to share. I decided to steer the conversation in a different direction.
“I have a question for you, Otelia.”
“Great deflection there, sparky,” she rallied before allowing me to take the out. “Shoot. And I mean that figuratively speaking, of course.”
“Of course.” I tipped my chin. “Why did you drop out of high school before graduation?”
She blinked through wet lashes, her gaze suddenly far away and without focus until she gathered herself and settled back to Earth. Her once mirthful facial features turned to stone just before she snapped. “You piece of shit motherfucker,” she gritted through clenched teeth. “If there was something you wanted to know about me, you could’ve asked instead of playing mob boss junior detective.”
“Calm down, Otelia. It was just an innocent question,” I scolded.
She grabbed the napkin from her lap and threw it across the table in an outburst of anger. “Friends talk to each other, asshole. They don’t go behind each other’s backs to dig up shit that’s none of their fucking business. How dare you? You had no right to dig into my past! None.”
“I don’t appreciate the attitude, woman, and I won’t overlook too many more of your motherfuckers either. Remember who the fuck you’re talking to. If you don’t like the topic of discussion, I’d be willing to amend it when and if you can control yourself.”
I might not have instigated the conversation, but I could sure as shit shut it down if she continued to behave like a raging bitch.
“Calm down,” she whispered to herself. “Don’t like my attitude?”
“That’s what the fuck I said, Otelia.” I drilled her with a hard stare.
She returned a pitiful half smirk. “Thought I told you to call me Odie, Darragh? Or are we done with this little becoming buddies experiment? ‘Cause you suck at it.”
“Look, you don’t have to—”
“I’d like to return to my room until it’s time for the match, if you don’t mind,” she clipped.
My father told me once that the eyes never lie, that regardless of how well a man or woman tried to hide their true nature, the eyes would always tell the truth. Otelia wasn’t angry, nor was she afraid of the consequences of acting disrespectful. She was hurt. Heart smashed and barely hanging on, if the downturn of her lips and inappropriate grin were anything to go by. I’d royally fucked this up by snooping into her past and denying her the opportunity of denial I’d afforded myself when she asked a difficult question. It’d been a long time since I’d felt like shit for anything I’d done in my life, but today was the exception.
“I think we need an intervention, Otelia.” I stood from my chair and walked over to where she stood, still waiting for my answer. “Let’s take a ride.”