Page 12 of Spring Surprise
“God, baby, please. Let me fuck you,” I beg, my hands fisting and releasing beside my head. I don’t know how much longer I can hold on before this teasing drives me mad and forces me to take control.
I feel her smile against my shaft and know this is what she’s been waiting for. The feel of the condom being rolled over my length is almost more than I can take. She shimmies her bottom over my knees and rests against my thighs, her puss leaving a heated, dewy trail. My abdominal muscles clench. I raise my knees and press my feet into the mattress, tossing her forward as my control evaporates.
With the ferocity of a predator, I grab her arms, yanking her into position. My mouth finds her nipples, devouring one and then the other. Neely’s high-pitched cry of pleasure echoes off the ceiling as I grasp one of her hips in one hand and my cock in the other. Holding my steel-hard shaft steady, I guide her until the tip of me breaches her sopping wet sheath.
With a sensuous roll of her hips, she drops down, taking me in until I hit her cervix, and her ass rests on my groin. Her scream is primal. She throws her head back, panting.God, she’s beautiful.
With my hands now resting on her hips, I use the strength in my arms to raise her up and drop her back down, my fingers digging into her smooth flesh hard enough to leave bruises.
“Play with those pretty titties, Sugar,” I order.
Neely obeys, her beige-colored nipples escaping, only to be captured between her fingers as she squeezes the teardrop-shaped globes. My mouth waters as I fantasize about biting and sucking those delectable points until they’re dark and swollen.
There’s always next time. The thought shocks me. I’ve always been a one-and-done kind of man, but here in this moment, helping Neely rise and fall on my cock, I can’t imagine not having her again. What’s more? I’m okay with that.
Chapter 12
Neely
The phone I left on the sofa cushion buzzes, alerting me to a text message. I smile at TJ. I’ve learned the hard way not to change his diaper on any surface that can be hard to clean up. “Don’t you shoot your momma,” I tease as I pull open the tabs and quickly sneak a little flannel cone beneath his diaper to keep TJ’s six-shooter covered. I giggle as he stares up at me with a look that I swear is disgruntled.
The first time Toby saw what I was doing, he made fun of me. I made sure to record the first time Toby changed TJ’s diaper. Once I have TJ settled and down for a nap, I flop down on the sofa and pick up my phone. Even though Toby’s been putting in extra hours at the shop because of the filming schedule, he’s still been taking time to send me little messages and responses to the pictures of TJ I send him.
But this time, it isn’t Toby; it’s a series of letters and numbers that tells me the shit is hitting the fan back home. Jumping up, I hurry into the bedroom and grab the secondary track phone out of the pocket of my suitcase. I press the speed dial button for the one number programmed into it. When the automated voice asks for the code, I enter the numbers sent to me on the other phone.
“This is Sugar Cookie,” I identify myself by my club and stripper name.
Hey, Sugar. Let me call Lil’ and Di into the office,” Sweet Baby announces.
After a minute or two, my sisters call out greetings, and we get down to business.
“What have you got?” I ask.
“That’s the problem. We don’t have shit on who shot out your front window or who caused the accident that took out your cousin, but intuition tells me both incidents are related,” Sweet Baby explains. “That and both Rudy Blanchard and your aunt Sheila have disappeared, and Luca Gioberto hasn’t been in since you took maternity leave.”
God, Gioberto? The mafia boss loved to watch me dance and always requested a private show when he came in. It was my luck that our Hell On Heels had a strict hands-off policy when it came to the dancers. We didn’t dabble in private room lap dances or prostitution, and anyone caught doing anything of the sort was sent packing. No more help, no more protection, and no glowing references either.
“Do you think what’s been going on is related to Janessa’s situation, or is this related to Luca Gioberto?” I ask as I nibble on my thumbnail. Hearing the girls running into roadblocks has me itching to go dark web hunting.
“Could be either, or it could be someone else. Sparkle had some big paper towel dude, only more manly, if that’s possible, in here on Friday night asking after Sugar Cookie. She brought it to me right away, but the guy left before I could confront him.”
“Paper towel? You mean like a big, brawny lumberjack?” Diamond Girl is a damned good enforcer for the club. Not only is she retired military, but she also has three brothers who are MMA fighters in both sanctioned and non-sanctioned fights, so she’s been fighting and scrapping her entire life.
The thing with Diamond is that her descriptions of people usually leave the rest of us scrambling to figure out who she’s talking about. It isn’t that Di is trying to be facetious or cruel, but she catalogues people’s features differently. People become a portrait in her mind, creating total recall for her and the rest of us playing ‘guess who’ as we catch up. She can also draw the image down to the last perfect eyelash when needed.
“Exactly. When I went back to question her more thoroughly, Sparkle said she had the feeling he knew you weren’t here.”
“I have my laptop with me. I can pull up the feeds and see if it’s someone I recognize and run a facial scan. If I can’t pull it off the video, you may have to draw him for me. As for Gioberto, I’ll put out some feelers and come up with a battle plan on how to keep track of him, with him and his muscle none the wiser.”
“Do you think we have a mole selling or feeding information?” Lil’ Luscious, the VP, asks.
“I don’t know, Lil’. What I can do is go back into the video archives to around the time he first showed up and do a deep dive into anyone new we’ve hired or anyone he’s talked to longer than it takes to order a drink. It would be better if I had Dragonfly, but my laptop will have to do for now.”
I talk to my sisters for a few more minutes, rehashing game plans and how TJ is doing before we end the call. Once I hang up, I stare out the window. Shit is getting real with enemies coming out of the woodwork and scurrying like cockroaches around in the dark.
For the last five years, my club has always come first. When I became a mom, that shifted, or should I say expanded. Everything I do going forward has a direct impact on TJ. I can’t wait any longer to make sure he’s always protected. That starts with getting my will notarized when TJ wakes up from his nap. Maybe we’ll stop in and see Toby for a few stolen minutes of joy because when he gets home tonight, I’ll have to explain the other reason TJ and I are here, and I have a feeling it isn’t going to go over well.
Chapter 13
