Charged (20 page)

“You’re so tight, Georgia. This isn’t going to be much longer,” Ryker pants out. “But it won’t be the last tonight.” Each word is a labor, working them free of his lips while he kisses my mouth devouring me. “I’ve wanted to suck on these lips all day,” he says as he pulls the bottom lip into his.

“Totally looking forward to a repeat.” I giggle and smack his ass cheeks hard, causing him to drive further in, dragging a groan from him and a sigh from me.  He pumps rhythmically, a beat that takes the same rate as my heart, driving my now rising orgasm to the fore. 

I feel the heat as it builds with that blue flame licking my skin, and lighting me up within before it bursts free of my body. I whine out my release as my body clutches his cock tighter. He growls that sexier than hell noise, pushes hard a few more times before I feel his release building to a crescendo. 

“God dammit, Georgia,” he yells, pumping faster then he stills, falling bonelessly beside me. “Fuck woman, you’ll be the death of me.” His whisper isn’t meant to be taken literally, but I take it only one way.
I will be.
 

Post coital bliss is denied in one sentence, all because I
will
be his death. Gianfranco will fucking murder him in front of me just for kicks if he finds out I had any connection to him. 

I still on the bed underneath Ryker’s amazing frame and wonder what the hell I’ve done.

Ryker

T
hat was fucking fantastic, but at the same time terribly wrong. Georgia stilled like a statue beneath me when I say those words.

After having one of the hardest orgasms of my life with Kate/Georgia, I was prepared to give her the best sex of hers. Finding that she’d only had quick sex in the back of a car or in an alley, pisses me off. She’s missed out on the more intricate acts, but I intend on showing her all of my talents until she becomes boneless and sated.

I wanted to make her shatter. After three goddamn, beautiful orgasms, I think it was mission accomplished. But now I want more. I’m greedy. Here’s the rub; she’s tightened up like a board, and until I find out why, my cock is on stand-down. 

Before her, I never cared what went through their heads. Fuck em’ and leave em’ — but with Georgia, I want the truth. She’s still holding something big back from me, trying to protect me. I’m
going
to have to delve into her obviously troubled mind to get to the truth, whether she likes it or not.

“Are you going to tell me what’s wrong?” I ask as she lifts up off the bed. She won’t look me in the eyes, grabbing her jeans from the floor. Pulling the legs back through to right them, she slips them on. 

“It’s not your concern, Ryker.” Tucking her tight as fuck ass into the jeans, and in essence blocking my best fucking view, she tosses on my worn t-shirt and huffs. 

“Bullshit. You let me in, now give me the benefit and tell me all of it.” I’m pissed. 

“I’m sorry, this just isn’t going to work, and I shouldn’t have brought you into this. I’ll walk back to the shop, grab my bags and fuck off, or you’ll be dead once Gianfranco finds out that you were holing me up.” Tucking her bra into her pocket and starting towards the hallway door, I watch as the scared rabbit is back, all because of one blissful comment.  

“You have no fucking idea where you are. I’m the only chance you have.” I’m steamed she thinks she can just fuck me, hop up and take off, and that I’ll let her run right into the hands of her madman father. No. Not happening. 

“What the hell are you gonna do? Hitchhike? Suck some random guy’s cock to get a ride?” The visual makes me cringe. “Come back to this bed, or I’ll
make
you come back to this bed. I enjoyed fucking you, and I’m tired. I’m not in the mood for drama.”

She stops with her back to me, leaning heavily on the door frame, and I bet if I looked her in the face right now, I’d see a
crazy
glow — like burnt embers — as she contemplates how to move. Does she go forward and run, or stop and come back to the warm bed?

“Ryker, I — ” 

“No, don’t lie. Tell me the truth.” I can see it. She’s gonna bolt. She sighs, shakes her head, and moves off down the hall. Jumping up off the bed, I chase after her ass. I cuss to myself that this woman is exasperating, and this is bullshit, but I think it’s worth the fight.

“You trusted me enough to tell me about Gianfranco knowing I could handle it, but now you’re running off?” Laughing, I realize the circumstances are truly, and utterly asinine. I sound like a needy little bitch. 

No. I sound like the girls that ask me to stay with them — just one more hour, one more night — one more orgasm. My oh my but the tables have turned, buddy. Just stuff me in a pile of shit, ‘cause I can’t seem to let her walk out of here, straight into the hands of that maniac. I may work at Jack’s, and I may supply Gianfranco and his brother with cars, parts and money, but they don’t own me. I am my own man, clear and simple.

Naked as a jaybird and proud of it, I try to quell her exit. We’re miles from the shop, miles from civilization, and she’s without friends, a car, or belongings. Hazel won’t be awake, and her place will be locked up like a jail.  Plus, I’d spoken to her earlier and her exact words were, ‘I don’t expect to see her back tonight’, with a wink and a nudge. I understood her meaning. Give Kate a night out. 

Chasing her down, I call out, “Where’d ya think you’ll go without wheels? How will you get anywhere?”

“I can’t stay,” she says, staring out into the darkness of my backyard. “There’s too much at stake.”  

“Ya’ know what? This calls for more alcohol.” Picking up our now empty glasses, and topping them back up with scotch, I wince. The soft flesh of my dick touches the cupboard handles, and they’re as cold as ice, making my cock shrink further. Grabbing both glassfuls, I move towards her, expecting another round of excuses for why she can’t stay. I get it. Really I do. If she’s Gianfranco’s daughter, then she
is
in a heap of shit; probably has been for longer than necessary. 

Coming up behind her, putting the glass in front of her, I watch as Georgia takes it reluctantly, all with that damn sighing sound that makes my cock hard. I castigate myself that the timing ain’t perfect, but uncontrollable. 

Standing this close, breathing in, that intoxicating concoction of sweet flowers, candy, and sexual release — it’s like honey on the tongue, shocking my already heightened senses. Instantly my dick is in charge, standing at attention, resting against her smooth backside. Reminding myself I need the truth more than a fuck, I back off and think of fat ladies to calm my blood.   

“Do you trust me to look after you?” With a tilting of her head she nods agreeing, sipping at her drink.

“I guess I have so far. I just don’t do well with letting others in.” She smiles up at me weakly and I give her time to process her thoughts. “I told you the story about the car, my mom, and my cousin.” Nodding, I guzzle down a mouthful and wait. 

“You know she was just trying to save me? My mother. She jumped in front of the bullet to save me, so pardon me if I’m not big on letting someone else get hurt in my defense. It never turns out good.” 

Shit, I guess I never thought of it in that sense. “I’m not the brother’s puppet. I understand the difference between being one of them and being involved with them. I work for Jack and I never want to be the illegal partner. I won’t rat you out, Georgia.” Running my fingers through her hair, watching as the light bleeds her natural colour through, it shimmers like gold and I badly want to strip off the cover. I think as a dark haired woman, Georgia is beautiful — as a platinum or light colored blonde, she will be exceptional. 

Pausing, I see that she’s still not convinced I’m not the bad guy. If I open up and give her a bit more about me, maybe she’ll see we’re more alike. 

Gulping a large mouthful of the scotch in my glass, I think of where to start. 

“My mom was a hooker, or at least that was her job as an undercover FBI agent. She cared for me, loved me, and made sure I stayed out of trouble. She was beautiful, liberating and fantastic. She would dance in the apartment at all hours, swinging me around until I’d almost pee myself. I loved the hell out of her.” 

“She sounds amazing.” 

I haven’t talked about my mother in so long that it hurts, but it also feels good in a way. “She was.
They
were actually. This one night, when I was old enough to be left alone, my parents went out to dinner. They said they’d be late getting in, and told me they’d see me in the morning, but I didn’t — see them that is.” 

By now, Kate has turned around, listening intently to
my
story. Plunking down in the armchair, I motion for her to sit with me, and together, we curl into the tight space. It won’t be comfortable for long, but I don’t intend on this being a long conversation. 

“Anyway, I went to school the next day, and halfway through the day, I was picked up by Jack in his shiny new Mustang. My mother was dead and my dad was gone; in the wind.  The stories differed about Carlo Mancuso, and I couldn’t ask anyone. Jack never talked about him and anytime I asked, I was cuffed up the side of the head, or punched in the stomach. I was constantly told to ‘
fogetaboutit’ —
like that would fix things. Years later, with no help from Jack, I found out that Carlo was undercover too.” Placing my glass on the end table, I pull at her lovely hair, absentmindedly twirling the strands around my fingers. 

“I always thought he was just some junkie, ‘cause they’d said he was in rehab, but that was bullshit. He was deep in the shit with Gianfranco and Mario, so much so that his cover became him.” Talking about them this much is liberating, and my cock doesn’t seem to be in the mood anymore. 

I’ve never talked about my parents, and I’ve never cared to let someone else in on my story. So why do I want her to know? Why does she affect me this way? The truth is,
with her; I feel a connection.
 

“Well, you make my life seem unconventionally normal.” Georgia jokes, and I guess it does. 

“I live here in hot ass Mississippi, you are on the run from a mafia leader, and his crazy brother, who happens to own the place your car is being fixed at, after running away from said brothers. Nothing about either one of us is conventionally normal.” 

Ignoring that, she asks, “So your dad? Was he with the FBI as well?”

“Yeah. My dad was FBI. I’d asked Jack about him a couple times, and it was as if I was betraying him. My mother was murdered, my dad was gone and no one else came for me, therefore I needed to treat him with respect.” I take up my drink, guzzling it down to fumes, thinking about how Jack will react to this. 

“The mafia knew they were both FBI, and I was taken as a hostage as collateral. By the time it mattered, I was so entrenched in this life, there was nothing anyone could do to save me.” Georgia has sat listening raptly, but I’m worried that this is the calm before the storm. 

Looking in her glass like she’ll find the answer written within, she worries that bottom lip, nipping at it, awakening my cock all over again. I can’t handle when she bites it. Worrying her teeth on it. She’ll chew it off, and all I can think of is stripping her. I want all that pent up frustration on me instead of that soft, plump, undeserving piece of flesh. 

“What did he look like?” she questions, pulling me from my sexual musings.

“Who?” 

“Your dad, Carlo.” That cooled my dick off. 

“Why?”

“I guess I’m curious.” Bullshit. She’s fishing.

“I hear I look like him, but I have my mother’s eyes.  Everyone has said that.”

“You said FBI, right?” 

“Yeah.” I don’t get where this is going but I have a bad feeling. When she reaches into that raggedy purse of hers, dragging out a cell phone and fiddling with the oversized ancient gadget, I wonder what’s going on. And then she holds it up to me. 

“This is why.” There’s a man on the screen that looks somewhat like me, with greying hair, chocolate brown eyes, and a soft smile. It’s a profile with a phone number at the bottom.

“That’s CJ. He’s my handler. Well he was, until I ditched him in Savannah a year ago. I’d been moved so many times that I was finally fed up. Wow that’s funny —
Fed up
.” She hiccups and laughs at her own horrible joke, then takes another swig of her drink. “He was the one that whisked me away that night and has looked after me ever since. I’d told him that I couldn’t handle the
suzy-homemaker taking in the orphaned kid
again, but he always told me, ‘just once more, kiddo’.”