Page 11 of The Highwaymen

Jamie nodded, a knowing smirk playing at the corners of his mouth. He knew the game we were about to play all too well.

I sauntered into the cramped office, the bell above the door announcing my arrival with a tinny jingle. Behind the counter sat a portly, balding man engrossed in a tattered paperback. He looked up, annoyance flashing in his watery eyes.

“Need a room for the night,” I said, leaning an elbow on the chipped Formica countertop.

The man grunted and slid a guest book across to me. As I scrawled a fake name and address, I caught a glimpse of a key rack on the wall behind him. The key to the very last room dangled there, apart from the others. Perfect.

“That room at the end, it vacant?” I asked, pointing.

The man followed my finger and shrugged. “Guess so. Fifty bucks.”

I slid three wrinkled twenties across the counter. “Keep the change.”

The man handed me the key without another word, his eyes already drifting back to his book.

I returned to the truck, dangling the room key from my finger with a triumphant flourish. Jamie's eyes sparkled with anticipation. Jamie grabbed his backpack, and I slung my overnight bag over my shoulder before we made our way down to the end room.

The door creaked open to reveal a dingy space, dimly lit by a single, bare bulb. A lumpy mattress sagged in the center of the room. The comforter looked clean enough, but it probably hadn’t been updatedin twenty years. The air hung thick with the musty odor of cigarette smoke and cheap disinfectant.

I tossed my pack onto the floor and turned to face Jamie as his lighter clicked. His willowy body was silhouetted against the grimy window, hips canted at an enticing angle. He lit his cigarette and flicked his long hair behind his shoulder before tipping his head back to expose his throat as he blew the smoke toward the ceiling.

I leaned back against the door, drinking in the sight of Jamie's lithe form. His shorts hugged his slim hips and his tank top rode up, exposing a tantalizing strip of pale skin. He took another long drag on his cigarette, hollowing his cheeks, then slowly exhaled. The smoke curled around his face, accentuating his sharp cheekbones and full, pouty lips.

“So,” Jamie purred, his voice low and seductive. He stubbed out his cigarette and slinked toward me, hips swaying. “What’s your poison?”

I stepped closer, reaching out to trail my fingers along his sharp jawline. “You know exactly what I want,” I growled, grabbing a fistful of his hair and jerking his head back roughly.

“You want it rough, baby?” Jamie let his hands roam over my chest. “That’s gonna cost you extra.”

I captured his wrists and pinned them above his head, shoving him back against the wall. “Let’s get one thing straight. I ain’t paying you a fucking dime. I’m gonna fuck that tight little hole of yours and then…”

A wicked grin spread across his face. “Ass, grass, or gas, baby. Ain’t nobody ride this for free.”

My free hand slid down his chest to grasp his hip hard enough to bruise. I leaned in close, my lips brushing his ear. “Keep talking back to me, and I’ll have to teach you a fucking lesson, boy.”

Jamie shuddered, his breathing growing ragged. “Fuck yes. I mean. Oh, no, mister. Please don’thurtme,” he crowed the last part in an over-exaggerated high voice.

“You better be more fucking convincing than that if you want to make it out of this alive, Jamie.”

Something dark flashed through his eyes, a mix of genuine fear and excitement, but I meant what I said. If he didn’t live up to expectations, I was going to end him here and now.

With a low growl, I captured his mouth in a brutal kiss, all teeth and tongue. He responded eagerly, kissing back just as fiercely. I bit down on his lower lip hard enough to draw blood and he moaned into my mouth, the coppery taste mingling with the taste of his cigarettes.

I released his wrists, only to grab a fistful of his hair, wrenching his head to the side to expose his throat. My teeth and tongue worked over his neck, marking him.

Jamie whimpered and writhed beneath me, playing his role to perfection. “Please, no! I'll do anything, just don't hurt me!” He gazed up at me with wide, terrified eyes glistening with unshed tears.

I backhanded him across the face. “Shut up, whore! You'll take what I give you and like it.” Grabbing him by the throat, I slammed him back against the wall, his head cracking against the plaster. He let out a choked cry, genuine pain flashing across his face.

My grip tightened, cutting off his air supply as I leaned in close, our noses nearly touching. “Such a pretty little thing,” I cooed mockingly. “Gonna look even prettier choking on my cock and begging for your life.”

I released my hold, and he slumped forward, gasping and coughing. Tears streamed down his face, but I could see the bulge straining against his tight shorts. The little pain slut was getting off on this.

Fisting a hand in his hair, I dragged him towards the bed and threw him down face first. He scrambled to get away, but I was on him in an instant, pinning his wrists above his head. With my other hand, I yanked his shorts down to his knees.

“Stop!” Jamie sobbed, thrashing beneath me in a convincing show of fear and desperation.

I pressed my weight down on him, immobilizing his slender body beneath mine. With one hand, I fumbled with my belt, the clink of the buckle mingling with his pitiful whimpers.

---