Micah:
Standing on the
side of a lonely hill in East Texas, I picked up some dirt and threw it on the
grave, trying to keep my emotions in check. Relief and disappointment flooded
me as they lowered her into the ground.
I was alone,
now...completely and totally.
It was not like
I wasn’t used to being by myself, but the last person I shared blood with was
now lying in the ground. It was a funny feeling to realize I was the last of my
line.
It wasn’t a
very distinguished family tree; in fact, good riddance to most of them, but
this loss bothered me more than I cared to admit. I didn’t think I ever really
understood what it meant to be a part of a family, and now, I never would.
Hold up, time
out.
What was that?
Did I just hear
you sighing, “Ahhh, poor guy. He doesn't have a family?”
Don't get sappy
on me.
You've got it
all wrong.
I wasn't
looking to be part of some big, happy family where everybody was in each
other's business. People made things messy. I wasn't interested in messy. That
was why I played by my own rules. Life was much simpler that way.
I walked back
down to my Silver Porsche 918 Spyder, jumped in and tore out of the cemetery. I
couldn't get out of there quick enough. That place reminded me I wouldn't live
forever. I wasn't about to dwell on that little fact.
Heading back
toward the city, the wind whipped through my open window. The hot, sticky
Dallas air cooled a bit as the sun receded below the horizon.
I shifted into
fifth gear, trying to shake the restlessness gnawing at me. It had yet to be named,
but burned in my chest all the same.
The right thing
to do was to head back to my loft and crash as I had an early morning practice
the next day. But I was too agitated to sleep. I needed a distraction.
Before I knew
it, I found myself at one of my favorite hotel bars. It was a familiar place
that allowed me to unwind after a hard day. The aroma of cedar smoke drifted
over me as I sauntered through the bar.
There was
always a group of old men who sat together in the back room and reminisced
about the good old days. They laughed uproariously at each other's stories
while puffing on expensive cigars. The high life.
I bellied up to
the bar and took a seat on the end so I could watch the hockey game. I loosened
up my tie and ordered a scotch.
I contemplated
the day's sad event as I settled into a high back barstool. I had been the only
one to attend my grandmother's funeral. Eve, as she preferred to be called, had
finally passed after a long bout of emphysema.
We had never
been close. She was as crusty as stale bread and had never shown much maternal
instinct, especially to her kid’s mistake.
But that hadn't
stopped me from moving her into a nursing home near my loft and paying a load
of cash so she received the best care available.
Besides that, I
stopped in to see her on Christmas and Easter. I would bring her a box of
Godiva chocolates, which she never ate. She'd glanced indifferently at the box,
and over the whirl of her oxygen tank, she'd say in that raspy voice of hers,
“Thanks, kid. Gotta cigarette?”
I'd shake my
head no and she'd say, “Too bad. I really need one.”
And that was
the extent of our relationship.
Despite my
grandmother's negligence, I had grown up, carved out a successful career, and
had more money than I could ever spend in a lifetime.
I didn't need
anybody.
I took another
sip of my scotch, feeling its burn run down my throat.
Out of the
corner of my eye, I saw a leggy blonde take a seat close to me at the bar. She
ordered a Cosmopolitan and turned her attention my way. I could feel her eyes
drinking me in as she wondered which pick-up line to use.
I wasn’t really
in the mood after the day I’d had, but I was never one to turn away a willing
woman. She must have sensed a direct approach was best and addressed me.
“You’re Micah
Turner, aren’t you...the hockey player?” She turned toward me, her bright smile
reminding me of a game show host's.
I soaked her in
as I stared boldly at her body. Her long, gorgeous legs led up to a decent
figure that was bound in a tight, short, red dress. She looked pulled together,
polished in that plastic kind of way with her makeup and long, blonde curly
hair a little too perfect.
“Yeah, that’s
me,” I said slowly, giving her an appreciative stare.
Her blue steel
gaze glinted in the way a hunter zeroes in on her prey. “That was quite a game
you had against Minnesota.” She paused, contemplating her next move. “I enjoyed
watching you work up a sweat.”
She was pouring
it on thick. “Mm-hmm,” I mumbled into my scotch as I turned my attention back
to the hockey game on the flat screen TV. I wasn't going to make this too easy
for her.
I saw her lift
from her seat and drape herself onto the stool next to mine. She was wearing
one of those cloying floral perfumes I detested, but I smiled at her anyway.
Her hand found
my knee, while her long, red fingertips gripped my thigh. Her eyes lit up with
another seductive gleam, stalking me. “You wanna work my corners, tonight?” Her
voice oozed with innuendo.
I entertained
her offer as her hand rubbed up and down my thigh. I had a shitty day, and
burying myself inside a willing woman might just be the release I needed.
She was a
decent distraction.
She would do.
I undressed her
with my eyes. “Yeah, baby. I'll work your corners. I'll work you hard and rough
until you're begging me to stop.”
She swallowed
hard, absorbing my words as her eyes grew bright with erotic excitement. “I
like it rough.” Her manicured hand dovetailed into my crotch. “That's a meaty
cock you've got there,” she breathed out as her flawless face grew close to
mine.
I smiled,
letting my wicked charm work its magic. “I'll take you on a long, hot ride on
my dick. Is that what you want?”
She nodded as
her eyes half-closed in desire. I suggested we head up to my hotel room and she
eagerly agreed. I had an arrangement with the hotel and kept a suite for such
occasions.
As we moved
across the hotel lobby, I put my hand on the small of her back, leading her
toward the elevator. Women loved chivalrous shit liked that. It made them prime
pickings.
As we waited
for the elevator, she glanced up at me, stars in her eyes. Ah, she was playing
the innocent. I could already feel her trying to get her hooks into me. No way, no how.
We entered the
empty elevator and I hit the tenth floor button. The familiar ding of the doors
closing rang out, calling me to move. I stepped in front of her quickly, my hand shooting
up and palming the side of her cheek as I brought her face close to mine.
I held there
for a moment, letting her know I was in charge and we were playing things my
way. Her hand ran along my side, giving consent to what was about to happen.
“You ready,
baby? You gonna give it up?”
“Yes.” She
wagged her head back and forth quickly.
She was mine
now, at least for the next hour.
My lips fell on
hers, demanding submission. Ravishing her red-glossed lips, I plunged my tongue
deeply into her mouth as I threw her against the railing, lifting her leg and
ramming my hips into hers.
She gasped in
surprise, but came back at me like the tiger she was. She wrapped her arms
around my back, throwing her modest tits against my chest as she ground her
pussy into my dick, letting me know she had played this game before.
Not so innocent
after all.
I possessed her
mouth entirely, not letting her up for air as my tongue fucked her mouth
roughly. I worked her overtime as my hand slid around to the back of her neck;
my other hand kept her hips intimate with mine.
She moaned
breathlessly as we made out, my cock responding to the sexy sounds she made in
the back of her throat.
I loved the game of getting
a woman into bed....
