“How about we talk about what the fuck you’re doing in my truck. The truck you stole.” I can feel Rookie’s eyes on me, but I refuse to look his way.
“I didn’t steal it. You gave it to me. Don’t you remember?”
“I didn’t give you shit,” I growl, wishing I was there to shake the shit out of her. Or fuck her. Either would work.
“Believe what you want. Where are you anyway?” She asks the question like she’s deserving of an answer. Meanwhile, my blood is rushing through my veins. I’m so pissed I could tear the roof off this fucking building.
“Diem, I swear if you put one scratch on that truck there will be hell to pay. So get your shit, your friends, and your ass out of it.” My voice shakes with fury, and I wonder what my hands around her throat would feel like.
“I’ll make you a deal,” she starts, then pauses, waiting for my reaction. I’d give her one, but I’m too pissed to speak.
Instead, I close my eyes and try to think of shit that might calm me down. When I can’t, I lower Monica’s head back onto my still-hard cock. Not because she did anything special, but to send a message to Diem, I let out a groan. The moment I do, I can feel the anger radiating from Diem through the phone.
“You’re doing it again,” she says, deadpan.
“Doing what?” I sound bored. Like it’s an inconvenience to talk to her. Right now it is, but on the inside I’m smiling.
“That. I’m guessing you’re getting your dick sucked. Actually, I’m pretty sure of it.” I don’t answer her, and I imagine her reason for silence is because it’s her mouth that’s filled with my cock. Not Monica’s.
“You know, it’s a pity you never asked for the favor I owed you. Maybe you should’ve asked for that.” I can hear her smile through the phone. I shouldn’t take the bait, but I can’t help it. I want to hear this great punch line she thinks she has.
“Why’s that?”
Bringing her lips closer to the phone, she whispers in that sexy, submissive voice that I’m sure few people have ever heard. “Because then, it would’ve been your dick I sucked in your truck. Not someone else’s.”
* * *
I’m sure Monica’s cheeks are killing her. But after Diem hung up, I couldn’t get her last words out of my head. Now my dick was having some trouble with release. Every time I’d near the edge, images of her sucking some dude’s cock in my truck would surface, and I was back at my starting point.
After a while, I pull Monica from the floor, offering her an apologetic smile. “Maybe another time, babe. I got a lot on my mind tonight.”
She shrugs it off, just happy for the opportunity. “No problem. Call me?”
“Definitely.” I stand, pulling my jeans up before kissing her cheek and giving her ass a squeeze.
“Your money’s on the bar, sugar,” Rookie announces, still on his back on the couch. Figures he’d be awake.
“You know, Rookie,” Monica says, dragging her finger up his leg. “My services aren’t limited to just Shady. I’d offer you the same.” When she reaches his crotch, he grabs her wrist in his hand. Removing the cap from his face, he kisses the back of her hand, giving her a lazy smile.
“I appreciate that. But I’m good.”
“No, you’re pussy-whooped,” I say, falling back down in the recliner.
“Says the man who let a bitch steal his truck. And his balls.”
“She don’t have my balls, asshole.”
“So why couldn’t you bust a nut?” Smart-ass. But he’s right.
Diem had me by the balls. And that’s exactly where she wanted me. But after next week, that shit was gonna change. I’d let her play her games long enough. Now she was gonna play mine.
6
I ALWAYS DO my best to avoid worst case scenarios. But when you add the blistering heat of El Paso, Texas, a tired, pissed-off Rookie, two Mexicans who refuse to speak English, and an eighteen-wheeler trailer missing half of our shit, worst case scenario is exactly what you get.
“Where’s the rest of the shipment?” I ask, speaking slower this time in hopes they understand. My patience is running thin, but somehow, I’m keeping my shit together. I can’t say the same for Rookie.
The two drivers standing in front of us, just off the deserted, dusty back road we’d met them at over an hour ago, once again start speaking at a rate I can’t follow. Every now and then, I catch a word I understand, but I’m still clueless as to what the fuck they’re trying to say. These aren’t our normal drivers. They’re new, but have clearance from our contact across the border. We were told we could trust them. I’m not so sure anymore.