Page 21 of A Fine Line

Her lips curve up, and another soft moan slips out as she opens her mouth wide again. I don’t waste any time before shoving my dick back inside, and this time, I don’t play with her. I face-fuck her like I mean it, just like she asked me to.

She pushes my hands away from her head, and I release her, bracing myself once again on the wall beside and above me. She grips both my hips, licking and sucking my cock until I’m groaning deep in my throat and thrusting my hips forward. She takes me deep, pulling me into her until my cock is down her throat, then she pulls back and starts the licking, sucking, and teasing all over again before unceremoniously deep-throating me.

I curse, my hands fisting against the wall as I force myself to let her keep control, to take the lead, but I already feel the tingling in my balls, the heat in my pelvis indicating that she won’t have to wait too long.

Her hand on my hip moves, and she grips my balls, squeezing to the brink of too hard and giving a little tug, and I’m fucking done. “Fuck. That’s right, sweetheart. Worship that fucking cock. Suck all my sins out and swallow them down like the whore you are.”

I’ve been looking down, watching her suck me off this entire time, so when she looks up and her eyes meet mine, I’m surprised by the power that burns in them. Tears trickle down the sides of her face, smudged mascara framing eyes that burn back at me with such force that I fear she’s getting a glimpse into my soul.

I don’t blink. I swallow past the ache in my throat and the heat in my chest and thrust sharply, pushing the tip of my dick into her throat as my dick throbs and releases—deep. She swallows around me, her gaze still unflinching, and I remain frozen in place, my dick in her mouth and my heart pounding in my chest as I attempt to catch my breath.

After a few moments, she pulls away, her lips wrapping around my shaft and dragging down to the very tip of me, where she flits her tongue, then sits back. She brushes her finger along her bottom lip delicately, and then as she looks me directly in the eye, she licks the side of the same finger.

“You are a dirty fucking girl,” I grit out breathlessly, shaking my head on a small laugh as I mutter, mostly to myself, “I guess it’s a good thing I fucking hate you so much, or else I might think this could go somewhere.”

She gives me a brilliant smile that matches her eyes and replies, “Sometimes, hate is better fuel than love. You never have to worry about disappointing someone.”

I bark out a genuine laugh and nod in agreement, then turn away to fix my clothing and put my dick away. I turn back to her, but she’s still seated on the toilet lid, appearing nonplussed by the entire situation, so I ask, “Are you okay?”

“Sure,” she replies. “I’m good.”

I cock my head and narrow my eyes as I look her over. She appears to be fine. She seems quite relaxed, given she’s not the one who had an orgasm. She must sense my hesitation because she continues, “Really, Tony. I’m good. I appreciate you allowing me to use you in such a manner.”

Now, I frown. “Use me? I’m not following.”

She sighs, her shoulders rising and falling as she explains, “I’ve had a lot of terrible things in my life. I haven’t had a lot of time to process most of it, but I’m slowly adjusting to this new mindset and learning who I am without being told who I have to be.” She pauses, her eyes moving to the wall over my shoulder as she gathers her thoughts. After a few moments, her eyes meet mine again, and she clears her throat. “These reminders that I have power over my own choices, it helps. So, I appreciate that.”

I kneel in front of her until we’re eye to eye, one of my hands resting on top of her thigh and the other one moving up to cup the side of her face. “I may hate you, but I would never wish that kind of treatment on you.” I stop and clear my throat, that weird heat in my chest throbbing as I work to push it down so I can continue. Then, I add flippantly, “And what man wouldn’t be thrilled to have a fine woman such as yourself using him for sex?”

She giggles, the underlying humor of the situation not lost on her, and I’m glad I was able to break the tension a bit with my general asshole-like personality. “Seriously, Carolina,” I say, my voice firm as I hold her gaze. “Any time you have a situation you feel you need to flip your script on, you just say the word.”

I release her and then stand, continuing to watch her face as I step back to ensure none of her micro-expressions are showing any type of distress. She gives me a slight smile and says, “Well, we have a safeword. Do we need a new word for some variation of dick-me-down-right-now?”

“I’m generally good to go at any moment,” I say with a laugh. “So, it doesn’t seem necessary to me. Unless you can come up with a one-word abbreviation,” I laugh again, even harder now. “An abbreviation for dick me down.”

She’s laughing, too, the tears in her eyes now ones of mirth, and once again, I feel that weird pressure in my chest that has my laughter dying down abruptly. She also stops giggling, her brow furring slightly as she asks, “What is it?”

I freeze in place, my shoulders coming up awkwardly as I shake my head and back away from her. “I’m gonna go now, so you can do your thing. Yeah. Okay. Thanks.”

I feel her eyes on me as I fumble with the sliding door, and I’m certain I hear her laughing at me as the door shuts behind me.

Chapter Eight

Tony

Antonmeetsusatthe airstrip. He has a group of people with him, and before I know it, Nettie’s rushing toward a man in a pink shirt, hugging him enthusiastically. I look over at Dare as she wanders off with the pink-shirt guy and ask, “Old boyfriend?”

He glares at me, shoving me as he replies, “Not fucking likely.” He turns his attention back to her, a smile ghosting his lips as he continues, “They had a conversation in the middle of a gunfight, and he didn’t die. In Antoinette’s eyes, that makes them practically related.”

That sounds like Nettie. She’s a bloodthirsty ballbuster, but when she takes ownership of you, good luck. The only way you’ll ever shake her is to kill her or be killed.

We walk over to the rest of the group, and Darius and Anton do that bro-hug greeting I generally skip, opting instead for an almost-friendly nod as we walk over to the waiting SUVs. One of Anton’s men gets in the driver’s seat, and I stand there for a moment, uncertain of what I’m supposed to do since I normally drive. Anton grips my shoulder and asks, “Do you wanna sit up front, Tony?”

I squint at him as I consider his question, and then finally say, “No. No. It’s not like I know where I’m going anyway.”

I begrudgingly climb in the back, taking a seat at a door where I can easily exit, so I don’t feel trapped. Although my line of sight is impaired, at least from my current position, I might see something suspicious before it’s too late.

I don’t like being in new places, especially when I haven’t had time to fully recon every nook and cranny. Maybe that’s why I have this deep sense of unease in my chest. I swallow past the sudden lump in my throat, and then jump when Nettie’s voice is suddenly right in my ear, asking, “You okay, buddy?”

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