Indecent Cravings: Part Three Page 2

  “Okay,” says Trevor. “I think that’s it. You’re all set.”

  I decide to make a bold move. “Why don’t you spend the night with me?”

  He laughs. “Seriously, Smudge, you’re going to be fine here. I . . . uh . . . know the owner of this building.”

  “Really? And why don’t I know this?” I move up to him and straighten his tie, flattening it out against his taut chest. My fingers decide to squeeze a little.

  Oh!

  I’m not surprised at the impure ache firing up down below.

  “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Smudge.” He takes my hand and removes it from his chest. “Best maybe to leave that in the past.”

  “That’s the worst Humphrey Bogart impression ever.”

  “I wasn’t doing any impression.” He squints and smiles. “Humphrey Bogart? I look nothing like Humphrey Bogart.”

  “No, but you’re acting like Rick from Casablanca. All sacrifice for the greater good. Insisting I stay here to find myself, instead of begging me to come back . . .” I touch his arm. “With you.”

  He removes his arm from me with a snap. “Smudge, it’s because I know it’s not what you need right now. After the whole Zander thing, you’re better off staying away from your mom and your sisters for a few weeks. Personally . . . and this is just me . . . and I’m not saying this because I don’t want you around me, near me, close to me . . . I think you’re better off here.”

  “See, you’re doing it again.”

  “Doing what again?”

  I muffle my voice and put my hands in pretend raincoat pockets. “The problems of two little people don’t amount to a hill of beans in this crazy world.”

  He laughs. “Three.”

  “Huh?”

  “The problems of three little people, not two. Didn’t you pay attention at all to the movie that night I showed it to you?”

  I step closer to him again. The strong line of his lips is inches from mine over that powerful chin. “Yes, but we’re lucky. We have no Victor Laszlo standing in our way.”

  He laughs again, meeting my eyes for another split second. God, I miss that laugh. “You know, you’re clever. Or at least you think you are by trying to use my favorite movie against me. But I need to go. You’re safe here.” He takes out a card from his pocket and writes a name and a number on it.

  Rodrigo

  (305) 555- 9021

  “Call Rodrigo if you ever get into trouble. He’s the property manager.”

  I switch gears and try a different tack, propelled to convince him to stay. “You’ve known him for a long time, haven’t you? You spoke flawless Spanish to him. You hugged him. Guys don’t hug guys unless they’ve known each other a long time, at least not straight ones. And I know you’re straight as a gun barrel.”

  “Yeah, well–”

  Before he has a chance to throw me another line of bullshit, I launch myself onto his lips.

  Can’t help it. Those lips were begging for it. I heard them.

  His tongue meets mine. He melts. I feel it. I know it when a man melts, losing himself in me. We stand there for a very long sustained union, our tongues swirling in a rough urgency fueled by years of pent-up longing and desire.

  His hands travel all over my back, down to my sides, and around my ass, where he squeezes. To kick my seduction up a notch, I lift my right leg and wrap it around his left, rubbing my foot on the inside of his thick and hard calf muscle.

  Then, he pushes me away.

  “Smudge!” He steps back about a foot, running his hands through his hair. “We can’t do this. We can’t.”

  “Oh, stop being so fucking noble! You’re not working for my family right now!”

  “That’s not it, Smudge. That has nothing to do with it.”

  “Then what is it?”

  He meets my gaze again. I feel so connected to him right now, more than ever before. There’s always been a wall between us, though. Something intangible. A barrier he would never cross.

  Until maybe now.

  “It’s . . .” C’mon, Trevor! Open up! It’s me! “Smudge, let’s . . .”

  The pauses are killing me.

  “Let’s what?” I say, stepping forward to grind my hips into him. Oooh, he’s hard. Yep. His rigidness presses against me through the thin fabric of his black pants and my shorts.

  I get a flash of that other cock inside those black jeans, the one that I apparently can’t seem to have. It was so close to me earlier today . . . and yet so unattainable.

  Fuck, that burns me up! The asshole Lukas Thorn smacks me to orgasm, then vanishes and kicks me out of his academy.

  Fucking scumbag!

  I press harder against Trevor, clawing at his shoulders now.

  Oh yeah, Lukas? Watch this, motherfucker! I don’t need you! I have my Trevor! My guardian! My protector! He’s always been there for me, in ways you’d never understand, you cold-hearted freak!

  “Let’s go for a walk.” He steps away from me over to the door.

  I center myself, attempting to shake off my convoluted anger mixed with the absolute determination to seduce Trevor tonight.

  It’s time.

  It’s about fucking time. Plus, it will show that Lukas! I don’t need him! I seriously don’t! I want him to feel my nails as they dig into another man’s back as he fucks me!

  Take that, Lukas Fucking Thorn!

  Chapter 2

  The sun is down. The night is thick but comfortable. The clouds have moved on temporarily. Tourists flock around Collins Ave.

  As we walk, I link my arm through Trevor’s. His biceps are thick. I squeeze a little. He doesn’t say anything. But he doesn’t push me away, so that’s a start. A devious and dirty plan comes to life within me.

  “Where are we going?” I say in my best little girl voice, jumping up and down with a big squeaky smile without letting go of his arm.

  Trevor glares down at me with a confident look worthy of a movie star. “Dinner. I’m hungry.”

  I jump up and down. “Please, pretty please, can we get a hamburger? Please, please, please!”

  I know this is going to get to him. Trevor hates extravagances. “God, what is wrong with you, seriously?”

  “And I don’t want to eat out. I want to bring it back to the Redmond Apts.”

  He shoots me another evil look, then says “Come here.” I scream as he locks me in a wrestling neck hold and scratches the top of my head. I play-scream and then he pushes me away from him, walking ahead of me.

  I run to catch up with him and impale myself on his arm again. I skip as we go, giggling and laughing some more. Just like I used to do when the ice cream truck would drive through the neighborhood, and I’d beg him to buy me a Fudgsicle.

  “Oh, look,” I say, “what a perfect name for a liquor store!” The sign reads I <3 Liquor. “Can we go in, please? Can we, please? Can we, please? Huh?”

  “You know, I know exactly what you’re doing, and it isn’t going to work.”

  “Yuh-huh!”

  “Nuh-uh!”

  I break from him and run into the liquor store. I grab a bottle of his favorite Jameson, some club soda, and a bottle of Pinot Grigio for me. By the time he arrives inside, I’m already in line. He falls in beside me, shaking his head. I giggle and blow him a kiss.

  There is a girl ahead of us wearing jeans that barely cover her ass. I can’t help but stare. She’s a little big but nice and round.

  Trevor notices, looking down at me. “You’re funny,” he says.

  “How am I funny?”

  His eyes gaze into mine with that look that launches my longings again. “Just funny.”

  “Can I help you?” says the gorgeous black girl behind the counter. I can’t help but stare at her stunning eyes and luscious pierced lips. Yeah, I’m fully activated. I want to throw myself at those lips right now and flick that piercing with my tongue.

  Trevor takes the bottles from me and places them on the counter. This time I let hi
m pay, with another giggle.

  Once we’re back out on Collins Ave, I link up with his left arm and say, “I know what you want.”

  “No, you don’t.”

  “Yes, I do.” I drag him left at Lincoln Road, past the creepy guys who hang around the bus stop.

  “Shut up, Smudge. Don’t go there.”

  “I know what you want,” I sing in an up-and-down musical tone.

  “It’s not going to work,” he says.

  “What’s not going to work?”

  “Whatever you’re doing. I know you. You want what you want. You always get your way, being the youngest and all. It works with your dad, but it will never work with me.”

  I stop in front of the TD Bank at Washington and face him, pressing my breasts up into him. “What won’t work?”

  “Convincing me to go to some fancy restaurant. They’re all way to pricey around here, and most of them suck.”

  I squint while looking at him and point behind me. He smiles. “You’re not serious.”

  “Why did I drag you one block? Think, Trevor, think!”

  I watch his eyes as they fixate on a spot behind me. “I can see why.”

  I giggle, turn, and run against the Don’t Walk sign across Washington and into Trevor’s favorite restaurant of all time.

  Just as he arrives behind me, I say to the cashier, “Three hamburgers, two Filet O’ Fishes, a large fries, and a small fries. To go.”

  I swipe my debit card again. Thanks, Zander. I’ll pay you back, I swear, I promise.

  “You know you’re fucking ridiculous, don’t you?” says Trevor when we’re back out on the street, McDonald’s bag in hand, crossing over to James Ave and back to the Redmond Apts.

  I lean up into his ear. “Yeah, well guess what?”

  “What?”

  “I think you like fucking ridiculous.”

  Chapter 3

  We’re on the couch watching TV, stuffed with fast food, and somewhat drunk. Or at least I am.

  The talking heads babble endlessly about Donald Trump, who is apparently the only subject allowed on television tonight. I don’t pay much attention to politics, even though I have a sense of where I stand.

  “That’s a funny sign over the door,” I say.

  “What sign?” says Trevor.

  “Redmond Apts. Not apartments. Just apts. That’s what I’m going to call it. The Redmond Apts.”

  “You’re drunk.”

  “I resemble that remark.” I fall into a fit of giggles.

  “Hey, this place is semi-famous. It was in an episode of Miami Vice.”

  “No way.”

  “Yeah, Crockett and Tubbs came through that door and yelled, ‘Freeze!’”

  “Didn’t they do that in every episode?”

  “Yeah, but once right here.”

  “And you know this how?”

  “I was here, watching them shoot it. I stood off to the side out front. Back in those days, there was no courtyard or hedge. They widened the sidewalk, so back then this window behind us was right on the street.”

  “You’re boring, you know. A boring old man.”

  He puts me in another headlock and scratches my head while I play-scream. When he’s done, I use it as an opportunity to snuggle closer to him on the couch. He doesn’t move away from me, which tells me my plan is working.

  We watch the talking heads blather about Donald Trump some more.

  “I hate his toupee,” I say.

  “It’s not a toupee,” says Trevor, play-hitting me.

  “Yes, it is! Look at that… thing.”

  “There was an episode of The Apprentice where he was standing in a windstorm at a construction site. No toupee would have ever survived this wind. You’re delusional.”

  “Oh yeah? Well, you’re a moron!”

  “Oh yeah? Well, Smudge, you’re a whiny brat!”

  I squint my eyes and do my best Robert DeNiro. “You talkin’ to me? You talkin’ to me?” Trevor laughs and falls off the couch. “So much for your ability to handle Jameson, tough guy.”

  “Shut the fuck up, Tweedle-Ditz.”

  “Oh no! No, no, no! You promised never to call me that again! For that, you get punished!” I leap onto the floor and attack Trevor, throwing slaps and punches this way and that. “Tickle fight!”

  It’s all a bunch of fantastic laughs until . . . oh my God . . . until . . . he pulls me onto his face and kisses me.

  This time he means it.

  Yes! Success!

  He claws at me as I spread my legs across his thick muscular torso. I expertly undo his shirt and get my hands all over his hard naked chest and down to his abs.

  Oh God, they’re solid!

  A new wave of ravenous yearning sweeps over me. I press my crotch downward over his thickness while licking his neck and drawing a line down to the tattoos I know so well.

  He caught me drawing a picture of them once in my sketchbook. For some reason, he got mad and ripped it out. I ran back into the house and cried. Another unsolved Trevor mystery.

  Right now, I don’t care. I just want him inside me as soon as possible. As I glide myself downward, I undo his pants.

  Another goddamned flash of Lukas Thorn hits me.

  Stop it! Just stop it! Get out of my head, dickwad!

  I grunt out loud to get the image away from me and rip Trevor’s pants down.

  I don’t waste time. The cock I have sucked once before is again in my mouth.

  Oh God! So good to have a cock in my mouth again! It’s been way too long!

  As I suck, I catch Trevor looking down at me. His beautiful eyes are almost too much. I reach down and stroke my pussy.

  I suck hard, and he launches a thick stream into my mouth.

  Ohhhhhhh!

  The day’s frustration, anger, energy, and sexual turmoil all rolled into one push me over the edge.

  I come.

  Ah.

  Yessssssssssssss . . .

  So good.

  I rub my nub hard as more gobs of sweet white delight fill my mouth and run down my throat.

  “Good girl,” says Lukas Thorn’s voice in my head from earlier.

  Shut up! Shut the fuck up!

  I growl out loud.

  “You just came,” Trevor says.

  I giggle and smile at him, swirling his come around my teeth. “Uh-huh.”

  “Oh God, that’s hot! I don’t usually come that fast.”

  “I do.”

  “Yeah, I can tell.”

  I swallow the rest of him down and smile at him.

  His next move surprises the shit out of me. He lifts his legs to either side of me, rips his pants off all the way, and then roughly flips me up into the air somehow. I see the ceiling for a split second before finding myself looking at the parquet floor and his naked muscular ass.

  Then I’m flipped again and on my back on the bed in the bedroom, my naked protector and childhood guardian on top of me.

  God, he’s like a tank. I mean, I always knew he was big. I’ve seen him with his shirt off a million times, but the sheer mass and weight of him is like being pinned down by a wall of rock.

  “You’re so fucking gorgeous!” he says. “I’ve wanted you for so long.”

  “You can have me. Take me.”

  He makes a sound like some sort of animal and puts his hand over my face, scrunching it.

  My body convulses under him, ready to be ravaged.

  “I want to fuck you,” he says with a low hiss through gritted teeth.

  “Fuck me!” I say.

  “I’ve wanted to fuck you since . . . I shouldn’t say . . . since I first . . . knew.”

  Huh?

  Something goes haywire. My head spins a little.

  No, no, no! Let’s just fuck!

  “Fuck me!” I scream.

  “I want to fuck you, don’t you understand? I want to fuck you so hard until you explode.”

  I scream. “Then do it!”

  “I can’t!”


  Gahhhhhhhhhhhhhh, nooooooooooooo!

  He meets my eyes in a frozen perplexed glare. We stay like that for a moment too long.

  “What?” I say.

  “You’re Smudge. You’re my little Smudge.” He grazes the back of my cheek with his hand, like he’s wiping the latex paint off my face again.

  “Stop it! I’m not Smudge anymore! I’m Abigail! No, fuck that! I’m Jayd! Jayden Raye!”

  “What? You’re who?”

  The moment is fading. We’re talking too much. “Fuck me!”

  “I can’t just . . . fuck you, Smudge. I love you too much!”

  The world stops spinning. Everything goes crashing down all to hell.

  I close my eyes, feeling everything implode into nothingness.

  Damn. Shit.

  Shit. Fuck. Shit.

  I push on his chest, and he rolls off me. I swing my legs around the bed to the floor, suddenly feeling very exposed, even though I’m not even naked. I wrap my arms around myself and face the floor.

  “What did you say?” I say.

  “I said I love you. I’m sorry, Smudge. You have to know. I can’t just do this. It wouldn’t be right. Go ahead and hate me. Go ahead. I have principles, and I can’t violate them.”

  “Principles? What the fuck are you talking about, Trevor? This isn’t some goddamned movie about being noble. I’ve wanted you since the first time I got horny.”

  “And that’s the problem. You’ve wanted me. I’ve always sensed that. But there’s a difference. You want me, but I love you. I mean, I really love you, Smudge. Like nobody else on earth. And I am not right for you.”

  Oh God, will men please stop saying that to me!

  I try to speak, but I don’t know what to say.

  “See,” he says, “it’s one thing to desire someone. It’s completely another to adore and worship someone. And yet it’s completely another to love someone more than your own flesh. So that what is best for that person is your primary intent. My love for you has nothing to do at all with me. Nothing to do with my desires, even though I desire you more than any woman on Earth. But you deserve a boy your own age, not some aging bodyguard running from his own demons.”